High Tension: Who Am I Really?
by Airame Phantom
Summary: Sam's got herself a very big problem. She's stressed, confused, distant. How much longer can she hold out? How much longer can Danny? WARNING: is rated Horror for some very graphic scenes. Mature Teens only
1. Juan Vick

A/N: I got this idea while watching a movie called 'Sybil' or something like that. Anyway, here goes!**

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**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter One**

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Sam yawned and sighed. Her hand held the remote control to the TV in the living room. It wasn't every day she actually watched TV down there. She hardly watched TV at all. But today just seemed like the day to do something new. Unfortunately, the television wasn't on her side. She flipped through channels, trying to look for something to watch. "Gosh," she groaned. "There's nothing on TV at all. I knew this was a bad idea. Maybe I should call Danny, or Tucker." She looked at the clock. 6:34 PM. Tucker would be at home, on his computer playing DOOM right then. Danny would either be hunting down a ghost, or trying to study. If neither of those, then he would be watching TV, doing Internet research on NASA, or some other past-time. He was so unpredictable, unlike Tucker. She guessed...she guessed maybe that's why he was such a great friend. You can never know what to expect until you trust him. You just can't help but to love the guy.

At the word 'love' Sam felt the blood rush to her face and she blushed. She crossed her arms over her chest and slumped back in the couch she was sitting on. Now her mind was really spinning. She wondered if Danny liked her? If he knew she liked him a lot? Did he even have a clue? When did she even start loving him? It all happened so fast, was it since they met? Or just now? Are her hormones just out of control or something? Or is this real love? Why is she asking herself all these questions?

Sam massaged her temples. "Oh," she murmured. "So many question marks..."

"Samantha, sweetie, could you come into the kitchen, please?" her mother called from the kitchen. Her mom and dad had been talking in hush conversation for a very long time now. She'd tried to listen in, but their words were too incoherent and too vague. She just couldn't understand a single word. Sam rolled her eyes. It was probably just some lame thing they're planning on telling her about to try and get her to be the happy, pretty, dressed-in-pink, little princess they always wanted.

Sighing, the girl stood. "It's Sam, not Samantha," she muttered beneath her breath and walked into the kitchen where her parents stood, cheery expressions on their faces. Their cheesy smiles made her almost flinch. She fought against that and looked at them questioningly. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Sam?" her mom said. "We have something very important to tell you, dear."

"Really? Please don't tell me it's another program or shrink. Look, nothing's wrong with me. I'm not troubled. My grades are fine. Danny and Tucker are just friends not accomplices in my 'master plan to annoy the heck out of you people' as you so plainly it last time. I don't even know what had gotten into you guys when you said-" Sam stopped talking. Her father held out a picture. Sam scanned it.

"His name is Juan," her father said, handing her the picture. Sam took it and glanced at it briefly before looking at her parents.

"So?" she asked. She looked at the picture again. In the picture, a boy stood, posing for the camera by leaning over a tree stump. He was smiling brilliantly, kind of like the way Danny's father smiled: proud and definitely confident with a high self-esteem. His hair was short, brown, and spiked up on his head. His eyes...his eyes were the most vivid green-blue color she'd ever seen. They were entrancing. "What's it got to do with me?" Sam looked at her parents square in the eye.

"Samantha," her mom began. "Juan is from a very good and well-mannered family. They're the Vicks. We've been a very close bunch of friends for a very long time along with the Mersions. Generations even. In fact, I used to be a Mersion as well. I married into the Manson family when I fell in love with your father. These three families have also been having a bit of friction between them. That is why your cousin, Amelia Manson, has married into the Mersion family to create some harmony. A friend of your father's daughter, Loretta Vick, has married into the Mersion family as well. You and Juan have been the deciding point between all three families. You have been betrothed to Juan for about two years now."

"Is this some sort of incest junk you're trying to lay on me softly?" Sam asked, disgusted.

"Why, no, Samantha," Mrs. Manson said sharply. "No, not at all."

"Juan, Samantha, is of no relation to our family," her father added quickly. "You and him are not related. In fact, this is the first time anyone members of any of the three families have been married into the other family. You need not worry about that."

"So that's it?" Sam asked now. "You're gonna force a fiancée on me?" She put a hand on her hip. "And you didn't even ask for my consent for the matter."

"Samantha, you need to understand," her mom said. "These three families need each other to maintain our reputation. We are all needed to keep the connection in one of the biggest corporations in the world. If this does not happen, then the intricate structure will fall apart. Do you want to live like your little friends Danny and Tucker?"

At this, Sam snapped. "What are you trying to say? Stop putting Danny down! He's not exactly poor, you know. He's not! So he isn't rich, is there a problem with that? Do you think there's something wrong with him because of that? The same goes for Tucker! So what?" she shouted. "I'm not going to let you put them down because of money!"

"Then marry, Juan, Samantha. Agree to the marriage," her mother urged. "It won't be for a few more years anyway. You have nothing to lose."

"Oh sure, it seems that easy doesn't it?" Sam asked. "To marry someone you've never even met? A few years, you say. It won't make any difference!"

"Samantha, please," her father said. "Do it for the family. If not for yourself, then for us. Your dead great-grandfather. He worked too hard for all his hard work to go into ruin should the company break apart."

"Don't even think of bringing grandad's name into this," Sam said. She lvoed her great-grandfather. She would have rather lived with him than with her parents. So she had a soft-spot, didn't everybody?

"For great-grandfather Izzy, Samantha?" her mother asked. She would have broken down into tears at her great-grandfather's name. She couldn't argue with that. But everything they'd said only made her angry with them. How dare they lay this evil and heavy burden on her shoulders? Why don't they just squish her with a gigantic boulder already? It would be better. Now this one decision had her future hanging on the balance. Choose what her heart was telling her and deny only to let the family business go into ruin, or choose to marry this Juan guy and live her life in misery. She looked at the picture again. He looked sincere. He couldn't be all bad, could he? She bit her lip hard and looked at her parents, then at the picture.

Sighing, she hung her head. She had no choice. She only had time. "When do I meet him?" she asked.

"Oh, Samantha, we're so proud of you!" her mother said gleefully.

"I haven't said yet that I'll marry him," Sam snapped quickly and coldly. "I only asked when I'll meet him."

"Don't worry, we're arrange the meeting soon!" her mother said.

Sam nodded and began to walk out the room as her parents began to talk about something in hushed voices. She couldn't believe what she had just done. She was going to meet some guy she didn't know and that guy may become her fiancée. "Oh," she groaned, going up the stairs now. "Maybe I can make this a little fun. I can mess around with this kid until he can't even mess my life up." She smirked at the picture. "Juan Vick, you have no idea what's coming your way."

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E/N: Okay! It was going to be a one-shot, but I decided against it! Five chapters max though people! 

--Airamé Phantom


	2. Mr and Mrs Vick

A/N: Second chapter! I've been trying to work out the plot since it's going to be twisty and I think I finally got it. Now, I hope you like the chapter!**

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**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter Two**

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Sam was lying on her bed about an hour or so after her talk with her parents. She was already wearing her black pajama shirt and pants. She was currently trying to read a book, one of her favorites too. The name of the book was: Killers of the Dawn, the ninth book in the Cirque du Freak series by Darren Shan. She sighed and groaned, closing the book. "Why can't I concentrate!" she shouted, turning onto her back. She glared at the ceiling. "What did I do to deserve this?" she asked, laying the book next to her. "Why me?" She sighed with exasperation, bent on promising herself she would make Juan fear her so much, he wouldn't want to marry her anyway. But something deep inside told her bigger things were to come. Way bigger things. Rolling onto her side, the girl close her eyes, mumbling still. "Why me? I never did anything..." Before she knew it, Sam was fast asleep. At that moment someone opened the door.

"Sam, sweetie, Juan is coming tomo-" her mother stopped talking as she gazed at Samantha. She smiled fondly at the sleeping girl. She walked over to Sam and pulled the blankets over her. "Good night, sweetie," the woman whispered. "I'm sure you'll be pleased tomorrow."

Sam sniffled in her sleep, and turned onto her other side, grasping the hem of the blanket tightly in a fist.

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The next morning was Saturday. Sam was still asleep, but began to stir at some whispering voices. She tried to force her eyes open, but it wouldn't work. She turned onto her back, becoming aware of the fact that her shirt felt twisted around her body. Not to mention she felt an unnatural breeze lap at bare skin where ehr shirt failed to cover her. Her blankets had been tossed to the edge of her bed at her feet. "Samantha?" came a voice. It didn't sound very familiar, but was recognizably male. "Samantha, wake up." 

"What?" Sam murmured incoherently. She felt a hand being placed on her skin and she jumped, bolting straight up into a sitting position. **_No one touches Sam Manson while she's half asleep! _**

"Good morning," the boy laughed.

Sam straightened her shirt and looked at the amused male. "Who are you?" she shouted, or rather tried to shout. It came out more as a soft croak. The boy laughed in an amused manner and smiled at her.

"I'm Juan," he said. His voice was like one she'd never heard before. It wasn't deep, but not light either. It was perfect. Then her eyes met his own and she immediately felt lost within their color. Only the sound of a door opening reawakened her. Both teens turned towards it and Sam's mother peeked in.

"Oh, you're awake, Samantha," she said happily. "I see you've met Juan."

"Yeah," Sam said, feeling a little confused now. What had just happened? It was a strange sensation. Almost as if he'd been searching through her thoughts or something, reading and memorizing how she thought. It was just strange. Ever felt as if someone was watching you? Well, this is what it felt like. She looked at Juan, but he was standing now. He smiled at Mrs. Manson and said, "I was just talking with her now. But I think I'll leave her to get ready." Then he turned to Sam. "I'll be downstairs."

With that said, he nodded towards Mrs. Manson and exited through the door. Mrs. Manson smiled at Sam and clapped childishly as she walked over to the still sleepy girl. "Isn't he charming?" she asked delightfully.

"Yeah," Sam murmured, looking at the door. "Just charming."

Her mother helped Sam pick out clothes only to have Sam turn them down for her usual wardrobe. In the end, Sam ended up wearing her usual purple and black, sleeveless shirt and a her black skirt. Her stockings however, seemed to be missing so she ended up wearing regular purple-ankle socks. Just to add more to the mystery, her combat boots seemed to be temporarily misplaced so she wore black Vans instead. She had a feeling her mom didn't want her to look very Goth that day, and she knew why. Sam made her way downstairs in her semi-different clothing and gracefully and very rich girl-like jumped over the last four steps of the staircase and rushed into the kitchen. Maybe Juan was charming and cute and definitely confident, but she was not going to let that distract her from-

Sam froze. She stood in the dining room now. Instead of a roomy kitchen with just the family sitting at the table, there were three other people sitting there. One was a brown-haired woman who was clearly in her thirties. She had a white blouse and brown skirt that ended at her knees. She had white panty-hose and brown dress-shoes to match her skirt. A man with short, close-cut brown hair that was semi-spiked on his head. He wore a blue suit. The boy sitting next to them was Juan Vick, dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans. Over his white T-shirt was a green-striped and squared button-up shirt. His blue-green eyes watched her intently. Sam looked towards her parents which were sitting across from the Mr. and Mrs. Vick. A seat was empty, awaiting Sam to sit in it across from Juan. Sam, knowing her cue, went to sit down.

"Why, good morning. you must be Samantha," Mrs. Vick said, standing and stretching out a hand towards Sam. She took it and shook it once.

"Yes," Sam said. "'Morning."

"I'm Mrs. Vick. You can call me Jean. And this is my husband, John Vick." The woman pointed at the man beside her.

"A pleasure," the man said, standing and shaking Sam's hand as well.

"Pleasure's all mine," Sam said. It was habit to talk like that. She knew her parents hated it when she would say things like 'what's up?' or 'it's great to meet you!'. But she wasn't aiming to annoy the Vicks, she was aiming to make a fearful child out of young Juan Vick. He looked about her age, maybe a little older. Now that she looked at him more closely, she noticed that a small, straight scar stretched half-way across his upper-lip. She gazed at him.

"You've met Juan?" Jean Vick asked. Sam nodded.

"I did," she said. "You woke me up, right?" Juan nodded shyly. he sure hadn't seemed shy when he woke her up. Which, by the way, was not nice seeing as he touched her. She smiled fondly at him and his parents. "So, what's for breakfast?" she asked then, looking at what had been set over the table. There was toast, and...Well, that was all she recognized. Everything else looked so fancy. She never knew people ate this kind of stuff. She bit her lower lip and didn't make any effort to reach for breakfast. She knew her parents would want to say grace.

"First, we say grace, Samantha," Mrs. Manson reminded her. "Everyone, please join hands." Sam groaned as everyone stood slightly. They all held hands, meaning she had to hold Juan's hand, and hung their heads down slightly.

"Juan, if you may do the honor?" Mr. Manson said. Juan hesitated, but his voice soon drifted smoothly in the air.

"Lord, we thank you for this breakfast and the food you have presented before us. We thank you for letting us be in the company of one another. We hope you will be merciful as to let us live until tomorrow. Amen."

"Amen," the others echoed. "Well, everyone, dig in." Mr. Manson almost sounded normal just then. They all sat, but Sam had suddenly lost her appetite. As far as she was concerned, she didn't know where any of this food came from. For all she knew, she could be eating meat. She was afraid to not eat though so she took a piece of toast and ate that.

"What's wrong, Samantha?" Mrs. Manson asked. Mr. Manson and. Mr. Vick were locked in conversation over something. Mrs. Vick was eating as silently as Juan was.

"Not very hungry," Sam said. "Can I be excused? I need to go anyway."

"Where are you going?" she asked then.

"With Danny and Tucker to the park. I'm supposed to meet up with them there."

"Why don't you take Juan with you? Then you can introduce him to your little...friends," Mrs. Manson said.

"What?" both Sam and Juan exclaimed. Ashamed and embarrassed at their sudden out-burst, both teens' cheeks flushed red.

"Why, that's a splendid idea!" Mrs. Vick said. "A little get together sounds very nice."

"By all means, son you should accept," Mr. Vick added.

Sam said nothing. She knew she was going to have to take them even if she didn't want to. "Well, I...I guess," Juan murmured.

"That's wonderful. You two can run along now. We have some things to discuss anyway," Mr. Manson said.

"You're excused, Samantha and Juan," Mrs. Manson said. "Be back before dinner. And try to stay out of trouble."

"Yes, mom," Sam said and stood, pushed in her chair. Juan did the same and soon enough, both teens were out the kitchen and the building all together. Sam growled beneath her breath as Juan followed behind her.

"H-hey, wait up!" Juan said, running to catch up. Sam stopped walking.

"Oh, sorry," Sam said. "Listen, maybe we shouldn't go to the park. You wanna just walk around or something? I can show you around town." The boy looked at her. He was about an inch taller than Sam, but he looked so helpless just then.

"Uh, sure, that'd be great. But what about...your friends?" Juan asked.

"They'll understand," Sam said shortly. "So, what do you say?"

"That'd be great," Juan said again.

Sam nodded. "I'll just call Danny and cancel with him. One moment please." Sam turned and began to walk a few steps ahead of Juan as she took out her cell phone and dialed Danny. While she was explaining to Danny, Juan merely smiled when she looked at him. The smiled turned to a smirk and the boy turned to look the other way. Almost as if searching for someone, his eyes scanned over the area.

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E/N: I don't say grace so don't kill if that killed it. Anywho...'til the next chapter, peoples!

--Airamé Phantom


	3. Perfecto

A/N: I think I got the plot straight! My sister oh so thankfully volunteered to listen to me while I talked to her about it before we went to sleep. Unfortunately, she only agreed because she wanted me to talk her to sleep. How rude! Anyway, I told her everything and she grunted in reply. That's good enough, if you ask me.**

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**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter Three**

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Sam and Juan walked down a lane at the park. "It's quiet here," Juan noted. They'd been walking in a small silence for awhile now. Juan usually broke it while Sam tried not to reply. But it just called for her to make some sarcastic remark. She couldn't help it!

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, I can't hear anything, can you? Probably something going on today."

Juan looked at the floor and continued on as they walked. "You don't like me very much, do you?" he asked quietly. Sam looked at his sorry expression and sighed, now feeling guilty.

"Sorry," she said. "I don't mean to be mean but my parents getting me betrothed is just so wrong. I, for one, wanted a different course for my life."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But...you know," Juan said then. "Things could happen."

"Hm?"

"To stop me from becoming your fiancée, I mean. My parents and your parents are clearly not the only ones who know about it, but they are the ones planning it." Sam looked at Juan incredulously. She stopped walking. He took another step forward before realizing she had. He turned to her.

"What are you trying to say? We get rid of our parents?" she asked.

"I never said that," Juan stated. "But you never know what can happen, Sam."

"At least he called me Sam," she muttered before resuming her walk.

"I heard that," Juan said, beginning to walk after her. "I noticed how you seemed to almost flinch when someone called you Samantha. Did _you _ever notice you did that?"

"I guess it's some sort of habit," Sam found herself saying. Juan grinned. She was at least talking to him now. "But what about you? Do you want to get married?" There goes her plan. Down the drain like everything else seemed to be doing lately.

"Not exactly," Juan murmured. "No offense but I had my eyes set on another person back home." Sam nodded understandingly. She also had her eyes set one someone. "But, you know," Juan said, snatching Sam back into the reality of the fact that if they got tight enough to be friends, then more, they would surely end up going along with their parents' plans. She looked at him. "I may not know you very well, but you seem like a really cool person." Sam couldn't help the small smile on her face. Juan grinned sheepishly and tugged at his earlobe nervously.

"Thanks," she said.

"Your welcome," Juan murmured. He did that a lot. Almost as if talking to himself at times, murmuring, I mean. Sam bit her lower lip. _Man, did he have to go and say that? Now everything's awkward! _she thought half angrily, and annoyingly. Then she was struck with inspiration!

"I have an idea," she said. "There's a spot my friends and I discovered a long ago in the woods. It's real quiet and not manyknow aboutit. They say someone supposedly was murdered there a very long time ago and that they buried the bones beneath one of the larger trees. Wanna go see it?"

"Sure, sounds like fun," Juan said excitedly.

"Okay, let's go," Sam said and they both made their way to the edge of the woods. It didn't take long for them to get there, but Sam needed to start from a place where she would be able to remember the way. So it took a bit longer than usual.

"Just make sure you stay behind me," Sam warned. "It's easy to get lost."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Juan murmured and walked in after her. In the woods, because of the thick canopy being formed by the tall trees, it was a bit brighter than dark. Short, thin slivers of light pierced through the 'roof' or tree branches and leaves, just barely giving the two teens enough light. But soon enough, a clearing came into view and Sam started for it. Juan followed suit, not wanting to get lost.

They walked through the forest with ease, making some jokes - courtesy of Juan - and talking casually. Once they got to the clearing, however, Juan's eyes wandered straight towards the largest tree there. It was an old willow tree with a few scratches set into the bark of its trunk. He walked over to it and placed his hand on the larger lash that seemed to be at least four inches deep. "They say they were lovers," Sam said, coming up next to him. Juan looked at her. Sam was looking up into the branches of the tree. "The man thought that she was cheating on him. He got really mad and killed her. But she tried to fight back thus all the scratches on the bark. He killed her with a short, hunting knife. The guy was caught and sent into prison, then a mental hospital when he tried to kill himself. The woman's bones are said to have been buried beneath the tree, but no one knows for sure. After all, she'd been dead for nearly three days before he confessed to the murder. Anything could have happened."

"Who were they?" Juan asked softly.

"No one knows for sure. Everything was kept away from the public. We only know that she had gone missing three days before he finally confessed. Then the search party began, but they couldn't find anything around here. And the guy said he didn't know where he buried her. Alas, they came across this area and called in a detective. He said this was where the fight took place, but he couldn't tell them any more," Sam said.

"How did he know this was the place?" Juan asked then.

"Blood," Sam replied simply, shrugging one shoulder. She looked at Juan and his horrified expression. He'd turned pale and his eyes were wide. She smiled. "Sorry," she said. "I just love telling that story.

"I could tell," Juan said. Sam smiled again.

"Come on, let's see what else we can do around here..."

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"Home!" Sam shouted into the lonely-looking mansion. Juan came in beside her, smiles on both faces. They'd had a great time talking about a whole bunch of things and laughing at stupid, corny jokes. 

"Great, Samantha! Just in time for dinner! We've got a big dinner just waiting for you!" Jean Vick said, peeking out from the kitchen. Sam blinked.

"Big dinner?" she asked. Jean nodded as she came out of the kitchen.

"You two look so happy," she said. "I'm sure you will be always."

"Always?" Juan asked now. Jean nodded happily again.

"Everything is set and ready to go!" Jean said, then ambled back into the kitchen, leaving behind two very confused teenagers.

"I hope she meant the table," Sam muttered.

"No kidding," Juan said. "But I'm sure they wouldn't go about and set everything up without asking us, right?"

"I really, really hope not," Sam said. "But knowing my parents, they're capable of it."

"Mine too," Juan agreed. They shared a worried glance then raced off into the kitchen.

When they got there, everything was perfect. The long table had been set up, being able to seat at least ten people even if there were only six. Not to mention there was a long, velvety red table cloth spread over it. Plates and knives and forks and table napkins folded in a sophisticated kind of way were set perfect onto the red cloth. All in all, the place looked very graceful and rich-like. Sam almost died. This only called for one conclusion: They'd set up everything from wedding invitations to the date!

Soon enough, the clock struck seven and everyone was coming down to sit at the table. Juan looked nervous, dressed in a casual style. Mr. and Mrs. Manson wore their regular clothes. John Vick was still wearing his suit and Jean Vick was wearing her usual white blouse and brown shoes and skirt. All in all, everyone looked very...happy and awkward to Sam. And she could tell that during the time the rest of the table was being set up, Juan had had a talk with his parents. Sam couldn't face hers, she was afraid of what they'd tell her. She decided to wait until just now. Smells came in from the kitchen where their usually out chef was finishing some last touches to the dinner they were be eating. Maids were going around, making sure everything was perfect. _Sheesh, talk about wanting to be **perfecto**, _Sam thought annoyingly. Even her grandmother was getting ready to sit at the table!

Sam was to sit next to Juan. Her parents sat across from her along with the Vicks. _At least_, Sam thought. _Grandma's gonna be sitting next to Juan_. She grinned; that oughtta be fun!

"Well, let us sit," Mrs. Manson said cheerfully as they entered the kitchen. The guys pulled out the chairs for the girls or woman, even Juan! Grandma Whoopi wouldn't let the butler touch her chair and slapped his hands away. Juan chuckled at that, then reached over to pull out Sam's chair, whom was having a somewhat-angry staring contest with her mother. She was surprised to see that her chair had been pulled out. "Uhm, thanks," she said softly.

"Yeah," Juan said. He didn't look nervous anymore, not one bit.

Once everyone was seated and grace had been said, the dinner began with laughing and reminiscing about old things Sam and Juan didn't care about. All in all, it was getting a bit boring. Not to mention she hadn't eaten much because the main course's main dish was meat. She noticed that Juan looked uncomfortable eating while she wasn't. She ignored it seeing as he tried to keep a conversation going with his and her parents too. That's one way to drown out his mood.

"Before we hit dessert," Jean suddenly said, stopping the maids and chef from bringing in what looked like pie and some other things Sam had never seen before. She stood and clasped her hands together. The grown-ups were drinking whine, so she lifted her glass . "A toast!" she said. "To Juan and Samantha! Fianceé and wife to be!"

Sam, who'd taken a secret drink from her glass of, sadly, apple cider, almost spit out the drink. She caught herself just in time, placing a hand in front of her mouth and forcing the liquid down. She looked at her parents shakily. Her mother smiled at her, her father grinned proudly. Then she looked at Juan. He was looking at the table, raising his glass even so.

"A toast!" Mrs. Manson and Mr. Manson agreed. John Vick raised his glass as well. Sam was reluctant, but did so. Juan had known from before just as Sam had guessed. More talking when on, excited chattering, but she zoned out on everything. This was going to be a _very_ long visit.

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E/N: I be leavin' again! Review if ye desire it, aye, mates? I be seein' ya again later, savvy? Bye! (Yeah, the 'bye' killed it. Oh well.) 

--Airamé Phantom


	4. A Killer

A/N: Here's your next chapter!**

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**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter Four**

**A Killer**

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Sam walked down the corridor to her room. Her mind, however, was elsewhere. How could they? How could they just set everything up without even consulting her in the very least? The dinner had been almost two hours ago and she still couldn't figure it out. The adults were downstairs laughing and howling in glee. How pitiful. She, herself, wasn't exactly happy. She was more on the grumpy/angry side. Sam huffed and opened the door to her room. She stormed inside and slammed the door shut behind her. 

For once, she was glad for the balcony door located across the room. She slid the door open by the handle and got about halfway when a voice caught her ear. It was hushed and sounded very familiar. She was very well aware of the other balcony that was sutied next to her own. And she was also very well aware of the fact that the next balcony entry was in Juan's room. _It must be him, _she thought and peeked out from inside her room just enough for her to be able to see. Yep, it was him alright, she could tell.

Juan was leaning back against the rail of the balcony, his back to Sam. He had a cell phone pressed to his ear and was talking to someone. Sam could just barely make-out what he was saying, but it was somewhere along the lines of this:

"No. Of course not. Why would I?" Pause. "Yes, I'm putting the plan into motion tonight." Pause. "I'm sure things will fall into place soon." (Sam wasn't sure, but she had a feeling a smile was plastered on his face right now seeing as he lifted his glance to look at the darkening night sky.) "Can't wait to see you too." Pause. "All I have to do is get on their good side, then, well, you know what happens then." Pause. "Mhm, just like that. Give me a week and they'll all be out of the way. Even that girl, Sam's her name. She'll be the last to go, I'm sure."

Sam gasped despite her knowing she had just put herself at greater risk. She quickly put both hands over her mouth, then found herself going off balance and falling forward. She fell with a soft thud and yelp. During this, Juan had turned towards her. As Sam looked up and began to sit up, she saw him glaring her and with an angry whiff, said into his phone, "I'll call you back."

Sam's eyes widened and she went rushing to her feet as fast she good. But Juan was already on his way. He'd vanished into his room and she was sure it would take him only a minute more to be in hers.

She ran off the balcony and into her room. She rushed for her door, but only made it half-way around the room before Juan opened her door and stepped into the dark room, closing the door behind him and bolting it shut. He gazed at Sam, who began to back up.

"Now, now, Sam," Juan said, holding up his hands slightly to show he meant not to hurt her. "Just calm down and let's talk."

Sam wasn't buying it. Her heart was pounding quicker than she could think. And it felt as if a ton of bricks was leveled on top of her chest, not allowing her to breathe.

She quickly turned and began to run back towards the balcony, but Juan had expected this. Before she could slip out, he grabbed her arm, pulled her back so she was facing him before driving her to one side towards her bed. Sam was so scared she could only stare into those entrancing blue-green eyes. She froze. Juan then pushed her onto her bed and glared daggers at the girl.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sam," he hissed.

"That's not what I heard," Sam whispered, surprised she could even speak. She saw a look of panic spread across Juan's face. He scowled and pulled her back up onto her feet, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"How much did you hear?" he demanded.

Sam gulped and continued as best she could, "You're not going to get away with this. I won't let you." She glared right back at him, trying secretly to get her wrists free of his grasp. Juan calmed and grinned wickedly at her, only causing Sam to be even more fearful. She didn't like that look at all.

"Oh, you're not going to tell anyone," he said with such sick sweetness Sam's heart began to pound loud enough for her to heard it in her head. Juan eased over to the side of her head and whispered quietly with an edge of poison, "Or you'll go first."

Her eyes widened and she fought, now, to get away from him. But his grasp was that of an iron man. "You can't do this! You can't! The police will get you! You won't have a chance to kill anyone!"

"Tell me Sam, how do you want to die?" he asked. "Slow or quick? Knife or gun? Severed head, maybe? What's your greatest fear?"

Sam shook her head as tears came spilling out her eyes despite her greatest try at seeming under control. She whispered something quickly, incoherent. She managed to step away from Juan, but was still in his grip. "You can't do this, please," she whispered now. She sniffled.

"I wouldn't want to hurt you," Juan said. "I only want to be with my greatest love. Don't you understand that?"

"You can't do this!" Sam shouted again. Juan gave her a 'tisk-tisk' kind of look and shook his head as if playing with a little baby.

"Uh, uh, uh, no shouting, it's not good for you or me," he said. "Silence is golden." He smirked and narrowed his eyes at her as he began to drive her over to a wall. "Have you ever seen anyone die?" he asked. "Ever seen such bloodlust that you could go insane, Sammy?" The sweetness in his voice made her sick, made her want to cry out and scream and shout;. Even more, it made him sound maniacal, crazy and psychopathic. She shook her head and stiffened as the wall seemed to suddenly appeared behind her. Juan pressed closed to her. "Do you want to die?" he repeated. Sam said nothing, only stared at him with tear-filled eyes. "Don't tell anyone anything and I may let you live," he said, smiling thinly at her. Then he closed the distance between his and her face and pressed his lips to hers. Sam squeezed her eyes shut, feeling so betrayed and disgusted. Then Juan pulled away and looked at her. Sam turned her away from him and sobbed. The boy then whispered into her hair, "Remember, tell no one."

With that last statement, he released Sam with a slight push and made his way out the room, leaving Sam to cope on her own. As the door closed she let herself slide down against the wall until she was sitting down on the floor and hugged her arms. The tears kept coming and the sobs escaped. And it seemed as if she was all alone.

All alone in a big house.

Locked with a maniacal psychopath.

A killer.

* * *

E/N: To tell ya the truth, I love this chapter! It's one of the msot interesting chapters I've EVER written. Now tell me, have your feelings changed towards Juan's character? -evil snicker- 

--Airamé Phantom


	5. Something Wrong?

A/N: Huzzah! A chapter up-date! Mr. Bouch, my PE teacher, caught me making a rough draft during PE when we're doing anything and he read it. He asked some questions, then left after handing me back my notepad. I was scared 0.o**

* * *

**

**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter Five**

**Something Wrong?**

* * *

Next day. Sunday. 

Sam avoided coming out of her room at all. For all she knew, she could live in there and still not be noticed. She didn't feel like getting out of bed at all and just sat there, hugging her knees close, thinking about what in the world she was going to do.

Go to the police?

No, Juan would notice an investigation. Not to mention his personality seemed to change a lot: as if he were more than one person. She figured that he could easily fool them. And also her parents and his parents would begin to wonder.

Go to Danny?

He could help and would immediately take interest, but what if Juan did something to him? Unlikely, sure, seeing as Danny could easily go intangible and evade all attacks. But what if he got to her first and Danny couldn't do anything for fear of her getting hurt. And of course, somehow, Danny would end up the one being hurt. And she didn't want that. She didn't want anyone to get hurt or to die. She just wanted Juan to leave for good and never come back. She just wanted him to take a hike. Hit the road. Vanish.

But she knew that wasn't going to happen. There was something strange going on in that head of his. But she didn't want to know what it was either. She didn't want to think like him. She didn't want to be crazy too. She didn't.

Sam rocked herself slightly and buried her face in her knees. It was near afternoon. She'd eaten a small snack before, sneaking downstairs and grabbing an apple, otherwise, she hadn't eaten anything. As for her parents, they probably thought she had had a late night the night before because of the test they were going to have on Monday. They probably figured she was still asleep.

Sam sobbed and felt tears well in her eyes again as, for who knows how many times already, the night before's events replayed in her mind. Juan's menacing voice still whispered in her ear: "Do you want to die?"

Sam continued to sob, hoping the day would come to an end and soon.

* * *

Next day. Monday. Casper High. Halls. 

Sam walked down to her locker by herself that morning. She kept her gaze strictly ahead of her, not daring to look at anyone else. Around her, people whispered, as if they knew what had happened that weekend. She was beginning to think that they did. But they really just thought something was up because her eye-liner was missing and her hair was down. Everyone knew her usual look, and blue jeans and a long sleeve, slightly fitted black shirt was not it.

Sam made it to her locker with nothing more than a few second glances and stares. She began to mumble something to herself softly as she began to put her books into her locker.

Science book...Math book...Engl-

"Hey, Sam!" came a male's voice.

Sam, startled, jumped in surprise and dropped her english book, all the while spinning around on her heels and staring wide-eyed at the two boy boys now before her. She pressed her hands and body back against the wall of lockers, as if wanting to phase right through them.

"Didn't mean to scare you," said the first male. Greenish blue eyes scanned her expression in great thought. He was a dark skinned boy that went by the name of Tucker Foley. Upon his head was a red beret and on his nose, black-framed glasses.

"Yeah, Sam," said the second boy. This blue-eyed, dark-haired, fair-skinned boy went by the name of Danny Fenton. Both boys were her greatest and truest friends. And one of them, this blue-eyed wonder, was Sam's greatest and most secret crush. Some times, not even she knew this.

The said boy bent down forward to pick up the dropped book. Sam watched him, moving her eyes slowly as she tried to breathe and get her heart beat back to normal again. Danny stood back up and handed her her book. Sam took it gingerly, as if afraid of something.

Danny took quick note of her response. "I...I guess I'm just a little jumpy today," she murmured quietly. She forced a smile, but it quickly vanished into a straight-lined frown. She pursed her lips and looked away and at the floor.

"You didn't answer any of my calls last night," Danny said quickly, trying to get her attention back as she half-turned around to put her books in her locker. "I was getting kind of worried something was up."

"Nothing's up," Sam said quickly, facing him, a sharp look in her eyes that told him there was more to that response than she was letting on.

"Oh," he said as she turned her face away again and closed her locker. He and Tucker shared a glance and silently decided to keep trying to keep up a conversation. "Tucker and I were planning on heading over to the park later on today," Danny said. "We were wondering if you wanted to come too. You know, since you sort of cancelled on Saturday."

Sam began to walk away, simultaneously saying, "I dunno, gonna have to ask my parents. We have visitors over, and you know how they are when they want me to befriend another supposedly 'well-mannered' person my age. They probably won't even let me out the house without bringing him along."

"Him?" Danny asked as he and Tucker fought to keep up with her long strides. She nodded quickly.

"We wouldn't mind another person tagging along," Tucker said.

"Yeah, it's no**_-_**" Danny began. Sam stopped in front of them abruptly, causing them to almost bump into her.

"No," she said sharply. "He doesn't like to meet new people."

"But_**-**_" Danny started again.

"I said no!" Sam shouted, earning herself a couple of stares from the students around them. She turned to him and Tucker and scowled.

"Sam..." Danny whispered.

"Maybe another time," she said and began to walk away again as she disappeared around the hall. Danny frowned.

"That was pretty weird," Tucker remarked.

Danny kept his eyes ahead of him. "I know," he agreed. "I'm gonna find out what's going on."

* * *

E/N: I sort of blame Juan on my newest muse Morathi. He's a psychopathic speech-maker who deserves to be in a suit 0.o 

--Airamé Phantom


	6. Tonight

A/N: Uhm...woiw...no up-date for a long time..I think I got some inspiration back...but not all of it. You may see random up-dates but don't get your hopes too high...

* * *

**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter Six**

**Tonight**

* * *

First period ran by like a snail. Sam was quiet throughout the whole class, causing Tucker and Danny to share their own silent moments as well. Mr. Lancer even knew something was up, you could tell. Danny figured something about the way Sam wrote on her notebook so frustratedly, sometimes scribbling out whole words because of a wrong letter or how much she shifted in her seat when she stared at the clock must have caught his attention. At one point Sam had to catch herself from jumping out of her seat when the classroom door opened abruptly. Danny knew whatever was happening was really getting to her. And the cause of it must either be extremely scary or maybe even traumatizing...Whatever it was, he needed to figure out what it was. 

So he decided to make a plan. Okay, well, three plans...

Plan 1: TOPICS

Fourth period. Everyone was in their groups for Biology. The topic that day was different diseases that affected animals and other things that were killing endangered species. Danny, Tucker, and Sam had to choose between some weird disease name, poaching, or pollution to write an essay on. Danny decided to let Sam choose. "Which do you want, Sam? The teacher said we could do all of them, you know if you feel really strongly about it," he said, watching Sam closely before stealing a glance at Tucker's incredulous look.

"Whatever, I don't care which..." Sam said, scribbling quickly into her notebook. It was a new notebook, Danny saw, dark purple in color. He looked at Tucker and the boy only shrugged.

Plan 2: LUNCH

Lunchtime. Danny got all the meat he could possibly get on his tray and forced Tucker to do the same, the boy groaning and moaning about how he'd eaten an extremely large breakfast. Sam only grabbed an apple.

While they walked to their seats, Danny said in a very...forced voice, "Wow, I so wonder how I'm gonna POSSIBLY eat so. Much. MEAT. So much BEEF and PORK and--"

"Dude, it's sloppy Joe's..." Tucker remarked. Danny glared at him and he grinned sheepishly.

"Uh...Tell Tucker to help you...I'm sure he's starving..." Sam said quietly and took her seat. Danny frowned; Tucker stared incredulously...again.

Plan 3: ...ask.

Afterschool. School had zipped by way too slow after lunch time. Danny guessed maybe because he was actually doing work rather than playing around and getting yelled at. Let's just say his teachers would have been proud. If, of course, he hadn't practically ran out of the classroom once the school bell rang for them to go home because it was the end of school. He had to catch up with Sam because she was the firs tout the door.

"Sam!" he shouted, Tucker trying to keep up behind him. "Sam, wait up!" Sam kept walking briskly, hugging her dark purple notebook to her body as she went. Danny sped up further and grabbed her arm. "Sam, slow down, dammit!" he practically screamed and forced her to turn around.

"Ow! You're hurting me!" she shouted, dropping her notebook. Danny let go.

"I'm sorry, I-" he stopped, picking up Sam's notebook and sighing as he handed it to her. He'd hardly even touched her... "Sam, what's going on with you?" he asked, watching her rub her arm as he handed her the notebook.

"Nothing's wrong," she said, taking it.

"My...butt..." Tucker huffed, coming up next to Danny and leaning forwrad on his knees. "You...haven't said more than...a hundred words to us all day."

"We talk more than one hundred words in...a minute," Danny noted. "Something's up, I know it." He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye, her body tensed benetah his touch. "Sam, you can tell me anything, you know that. I'll be there for you no matter what. We both will."

She looked down, fighting back tears. "I don't want you hurt," she seemed to whisper, but Danny hardly caught it.

"What?" he asked. "Sam, what are you--Sam!" he shouted as she broke free of him and started walking off. She turned the corner and vanished, just like that morning.

"That's _got_ to stop," Tucker murmured. Danny frowned.

* * *

"I don't get it!" Danny shouted into the phone. He threw his free arm into the air and kept pacing aorund his room. "I mean, some guy comes over to visit her house and suddenly she's...she's...like Jazz when she thought she was wrong!" 

"You mean crazy?" Tucker asked on the other line.

Danny rolled his eyes, sighed exasperatedly, and plopped down on his bed all at the same time. "...I guess," he muttered and turned his head to look at the framed picture of the trio sitting on his desk. He picked it up. "But I don't get it...just who is this guy? What's he up to?"

"Dude, you don't even know if it's that..._**guy**'_s fault. Maybe Sam's just really going through a tough situation right now. Maybe it's stress. You know how she is. Some new envrionmentalist group loses funding and shuts down and she's trying to get on the news. It's Sam we're talking about."

"Yeah, but...I don't know. I got a bad feeling about this. It's more serious than ever. Something's really up this time, and-" Danny sighed, stopping. "Tuck...just help me out, okay?"

"Drop a line, anytime," Tucker laughed. His voice grew seirous again, "But seriously, dude, don't worry your head off. It'll probably just be nothing."

"Thanks, Tuck," Danny said, smiling softly and he stared at the picture further. "Really..."

"No prob, dude. Later," Tucker said.

"Bye..." Danny breathed in deeply and clicked the phone, putting it down on his bed next to him. "What don't you want to hurt me...?" he asked softly into the frame, fogging it up. "What aren't you telling me, Sam?"

* * *

They're laughing like nutcases. They're probably drunk. No, they _are_ drunk...I stared at them, the wine glasses in their hands. Even though my mom's probably the durnkest one, she's still holding her pinky up. Amazing... 

I switch my attention to the piece of broccoli still stabbed onto my fork and the sauce turns into blood and the broccoli into a finger. I grimace and look up. Juan's laughing with the parents too. He's playing Mr. Perfect Boy today, laughing at their jokes, making jokes. Perfect.

He stops laughing at the crack-pot joke my dad makes and only smiles before shifting his attention to me. He smiles that closed lip smile and sips from his apple cider filled glass. Giving me that look. The kind of look that makes me stomach flip and my heart start pounding. I'm in for it tonight...I'm in for it.

"Can I be excused?" I asked, putting my chair back. My mom looks at me.

"Oh, sweetie, you've - heh - hardly eaten anything," she says and frowns.

"I'm not hungry," I say. She frowns but nods her okay. I smile forcedly and stand, sharing on last glance with Juan as he gives his glass another sip. He's not smiling anymore.

LJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJ

I'm crying before everyone even goes to bed. I sit on my bed, rocking my body back and forth, knees hugged to my chest and face buried into them. The balcony door in open, the wind chilling my body and giving me fierce goosebumps. But I know it's not just the wind that's giving me chills. It's the fact I know he's coming tonight that's giving me chills. He going to ask questions. He's going to hurt me!

"No, no, no one's gonna hurt me," I say, suddenly calm. My eyes are wide, I continue rocking, I sniffle. "No one's gonna hurt. I'm storng..I can beat him off, I--"

I stop. I get on my knees, crawl around, as if feeling for something in the dark. "He's coming. I know he's coming." The tears come rolling faster and I feel hopeless. "He's going to hurt me..." I sob.

The night before, Sunday, he'd come into my room. He tried to kiss me again, but I shoved him off. He came back with double the force, grabbing my arm and squeezing it hard until I had to kiss him just to make the pain stop. The same arm Danny touched today. It'd hurt so much, the bruise there. It was purple and big and ugly.

After he kissed me he told I was going to be his pastor. That I was going to take his confession and wasn't going to tell anyone. He said I couldn't tell or else. So he told me.

"He told me how he was going to kill them," I thought out loud, forcing away images of blood, gore and meat. I felt my face contort as I tried to keep the tears building behind my eyes from falling. I didn't want my eyes to be swollen tomorrow. I sighed, putting my head back and staring at the ceiling. The tears slid down the sides of my face and I felt them leave cold trails as they went to my ears. Then I heard my door open. I snapped to attention and stared at it, almost wishing it was my dad or my mom...or even my grandma. But deep inside, I knew it wasn't them. I'd locked the door, but somehow he always found his way in. Somehow...

So now he stood there, that dark silhouette haunting.

"Hey, did you miss me? I missed you at dinner..."

No, no I didn't miss you...

But I kept my mouth shut.

I only nodded.

* * *

"I'm bout to break some fuckin' off  
Going to lose my mind  
I'm bout to break some fuckin' off  
I feel I'm feeling fine  
I'm bout to break some fuckin' off  
No it won't be fine  
I'm bout to break some fuckin' off..."

* * *

E/N: Eh... heh...heh heh...HAHAHAHA!!! Sorry, for some very strnage reaosn, I enjoyed writing this chappie...I scare myself sometimes. But I'm exercising Morathi's skills so...yah. Byebye now...I'm so warped... Song "Break Some Off" by Korn. Dunno, just felt like it...Korn is warped...I love them... 

--Airamé Phantom


	7. He Knows

A/N: Haven't written in a long time...Haha, but I want to finish this story tonight if I can. Here goes!

* * *

Chapter 7

He Knows

* * *

Tuesday. 2:30 A.M.

Two dark sillhouettes. One lies motionless, the other rocks softly from sobbing. Tears course their way off Sam's face onto her pillow, but she doesn't make a sound. She stares at the new bruise on her shoulder, so blue it's visible even in the dim moonlight. She closes her eyes, not wanting to see it anymore; not wanting to see anything. But no matter how dark it is, she can still feel him, feel his warmth next to her body. It makes her feel terribly alone.

Juan is practically on top of her. He'd drunk a little bit of wine from his mother's glass. He'd tried to go a little further this time, calling Sam by the name of another girl, maybe his lover back home, Lillian. She told him time and time again that she wasn't Lillian, but he wouldn't understand. When he finally did, he got violent. He stopped being nice to Lillian and was mean to Samantha. Mean...He hurt her arm. Now both arms hurt. Both of them. They hurt, Danny, they hurt... But at least he stopped. He fell asleep and stopped.

Sleep...

Outside Sam's window, someone was watching. He didn't cast a shadow, though he wished he could have. If it would make her feel better...If it would let her know she's not alone.

* * *

Same day. 7:45 A.M. Casper High.

Sam walked quickly into Casper High as soon as she was dropped off. She nagged her parents to drive her today. She didn't want to walk. But the nagging had taken up too much time. They all had hang overs that morning and didn't feel like doing anything. Even Juan had slept in. Now she was a lot later than usual. People would stare again... They shouldn't stare.

She found her way to her locker and quickly dialed in the combination. She wored a black long sleeve today and jeans. The new bruise felt even worse than the last, especially since she also felt wore from trying to fight off Juan. Sometime during the night he must have made his way back to his room. She was so exhausted she didn't feel him go. How she managed to fall asleep was beyond her, but when she did, she dropped like a sack of rocks. Though it hardly felt like she'd slept at all. She was so tired... Tired.

"Sam," came the voice, soft. It immediately made her feel warm. But the warmth was scary, like last night, Juan's warmth...But this was different. She froze. This...this was nice. A hand fell over the one she had on the dial of her locker, knocking her out ofthis trance. She whipped her head around, her black hair falling into a disarray of locks. Her breath left her.

Danny stared at her, brows furrowed. He had a worried look over all, but there was also something else in his glance. As if he knew.

He knew, he knew!

A sudden fear gripped her heart, making the sweet warth disappear.

If anyone gets hurt, it'll be your fault.

He said that, he said that to her. He had whispered it to her.

Fed it to her.

With his poison.

No.

"Sam," Danny said again, this time his voice was urgent. She had dropped her books and bag. She was shivering. He grabbed her shoulders, careful of the bruises. "Sam, what's wrong?"

She looked at him, fearful, like a child. She looked at his concerned blue eyes, looked at them, whised she could continue forever. Forever.

"Be careful," she wanted to say. But will warning help? She started to cry.

Danny bit his lip. He looekd around. So far no one had noticed them. Most people were making their way to class. No one would notice them gone...right?

"Sam," he whispered, shaking her a little so she'd look at him. "I'm going to take you soemwhere where we can talk, alone, okay?"

Alone... There's no such thing as truly alone, without him. But with Danny... She'll be safe with Danny. Danny can protect her... But who will protect Danny? She can't... She can't put him in danger! Danger of him. He's always there. He'll find out. He said so. He said so when he hurt her that if she tells, he will know. He will.

Danny watched as she contemplated. _I can practically feel her heartbeat..._

He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. What has he done to her?

"I promise," he murmured. Sam looked at him. He opened his eyes, his gaze softened, his grip on her shoulders grew a little tighter, but his touch was ginger. "I promise, no one will know."

He promises...

She nods. He could swear she smiled.

A broken smile.

* * *

E/N: So there's another chappie, another coming right up! I'm already writing it :)


	8. Warmth

A/N: Next chapter as promised. Trying to finish this off. Wish me luck!

* * *

**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter 8**

**Warmth**

* * *

Danny sat next to Sam, staring down at the grassy ground. She hadn't spoken at all since they left the school. He'd hidden them in an empty hall and phased them out of the building. He was going to page Tucker to let him know, but Sam had shaken her head. She didn't want him involved.

Now they were in the woods, sitting atop the big willow tree in their secret spot. She had held onto him for a long time while they flew there, but now she refused to get closer to him than they already were, though it was breezy and a little cold. He sat on one side and she on a branch on the other side of the tree.

_Oh, Sam... _he thought to himself. He leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree, staring up through the leaves. He closed his eyes. This wasn't like her. She was stronger than this. She wouldn't let anyone do something like this to her. He wouldn't be surprised if she was stronger than him in ghost form, even! But to be reduced to this...a quiet girl whose amythest eyes were constantly clouded over with fear... Sam!

He opened his eyes. Movement from behind him and the creak of the branch caught his attention. He turned his head a little, just enough to be able to see Sam doing the same. She quickly averted his eyes and turned away. He lowered his gaze.

Sam brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest. She had been searching for the words to say, but had come up with nothing. How had he found out? Surely it would have been easy to just fly over to her house and watch everything without anyone even having a clue. What if...what if he saw...? Her heart skipped. What if Danny saw what _he _did! What will he think of her?

"Sam..." Danny started, worry clear in his voice.

"How much did you see?" she managed to say, whisper, rather.

Danny blinked. So...she figured out how he knew, then? He pursed his lips and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I...What do you mean?"

Sam sighed, hiding her face in her knees. "You saw, right?" she asked, her voice getting stronger. She started to cry, but refused to sob. "You saw what he did...?"

Danny started to panic. What should he say? Was she made at him for spying? He knew it was wrong, but he had to know! He had to know who that mysterious "he" she had mentioned was and why he was here! Her parents wouldn't just let someone like that into their house, into her room! Surely there was a reason for him to be there...

"I...didn't see anything."

"Yes, you did!" she screeched, slamming a fist onto the branch she was sitting on. "You saw it! You did!"

"Then why ask!" he retorted, though not as strongly. To be honest, this sort of depressed him. She sat straight up. He sighed, putting his hands over his face. "Why...why would you let someone do this to you, Sam? Why would you hide it from us? Unless...unless this is what you want?"

She blinked. _What I want?_ Why would he...?

Wait, so he didn't know. He didnt know what Juan was up to... He only knew what he did. Of course... There was no way Danny could know. He would have to have been there when Juan revealed his plan.

She sighed. Somehow this relieved her. Danny was out of dnager, then. He was safe. _Thank goodness..._

"Sam?" Danny asked. Why wasn't she answering? WAS it what she wanted? But then why would she be acting this way?

"Think what you want," she said. Danny furrowed his brows. "Don't worry about me."

"Sam, what are you tlaking about? What do you mean?" She laughed. _Laughed_. "Sam?" Danny turned in time to see her climbing down from the tree. "Where are you going?" He asked.

Sam continued on her way, not even glancing at him. Surely she'd start to cry again. She could never look at Danny again. Never.

"I have to get home," she said airily. "You should go home too." And with that, she bolted into the woods.

"Sam!"

_I guess the warmth will have to wait...I'm sorry, Danny._

* * *

E/N: As you can see, chapters are kind of short. I'm trying my best to revive old ideas, but it's hard, it's been almost 5 years after all! But let's see what happens next!


	9. Untitled

A/N: Next chappie, a little longer than the last two. Here I'm stuck, the next chapter will be a surprise for all of us, yes, me included!

* * *

**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter 9**

**Untitled**

* * *

Danny didn't go home. For awhile he sat there, thinking that maybe Sam would come back. Then after awhile, he paged Tucker and climbed down from the tree as well. He stood gazing at the deep scratches on the tree, not really thinking, just staring. Is it what she wants?

"No," he mumbled to himself. "Sam isn't like that. She wouldn't do that to herself." He sighed, exasperated, and crossed his arms over his chest. "But then what's going on?"

Then, a familiar chill ran down his spine as blue mist escaped his lips. Ghost sense. He looked around. Where?

A rustle in the bushes a little to his left caught his attention. He hid behind the tree and turned invisible, going ghost at the same time. A ghost running through the woods?

To his surprise, a boy walked into the clearing. There was nothing weird about him, just a normal teenager, it looked like, alive too. But then why had Danny's ghost sense gone off? He frowned.

The boy looked around, as if searching for something. Then, he looked at the willow tree. Danny almost hid again, afraid to be seen, but remembered he was invisible and looked back. The boy had walked up to the tree and placed a hand on its trunk. He looked sad. Danny watched as he started to sob. But why?

"Lovers," he murmured, wiping a tear from his eyes. "Lovers, she said."

Danny turned away, leaning back against the tree. Lovers? What was he talking about?

"I know you're there," he said now. Danny froze. Could he be talking about him? How did he knoew he was there? "I know you're listening. You can't save her. Wake up."

What? Wake up?

"Dude, wake up!"

"Huh?" Danny opened his eyes. He blinked. He was still in the clearing, leaning against the tree. Tucker stood there, staring at Danny with annoyance. He'd been trying to get him to wake up for awhile now. "How long are you gonna sit there?" Tucker joked.

"What the...?" Danny murmured, rubbing his eyes. Was that a dream? "Was I wasleep?"

"Duh, otherwise I wouldn't be saying, 'WAKE UP!'" Tucker cupped his hands around his mouth to make his voice louder. Danny cringed and laughed. Tucker laughed too. "How long have you been here?" He held his hand out to help Danny up. Danny took it gratefully.

"Uh, I don't know. Sam and I left school this morning-"

"This morning!" Tucker exclaimed, surprised. "So that's why you guys weren't in school!" He frowned then, confused. "Wait, why didn't you guys page me? I would have tried..." Danny shook his head. Tucker huffed. "It was Sam, wasn't it?" Danny nodded. Tucker sat down this time, shaking his head.

"I'm starting to think she's acting weird too, now," he murmured. Danny leaned his back against the tree and shrugged his shoulders. Should he tell Tucker? Maybe together they could...No. Sam didn't want to. But it was cruel to keep Tucker out of the loop. "Did she tell you anything?"

Danny paused. Now or never!

"Dude?"

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said, running a hand through his hair. He was tempted to rip a handful out. "She just said not to worry."

Tucker stared at his best friend. Danny always fidgeted when he was nervous. Sam told him something and he was keeping it a secret! But knowing his friend the way he did, it was for a good reason. He turned away. "Well, whatever it is, dude, I know you can fix it. You're a hero for crying out loud!"

Danny blinked. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide it from Tucker. The ebst friend grinned at Danny, holding out a thumbs up. Danny smiled. "Thanks, Tuck..."

"Not a problem, dude, just let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Definitely."

* * *

Same day. 7:03 P.M.

I didn't get home until the sun was close to coming down. I had wandered around after leabing Danny behind. In a way, I kind of hoped he had followed me. On the to hand, I'm glad he didn't. If Juan had seen him with me, well, who knows what could have happened. What if Juan started to draw conclusions and thought of Danny as a threat, even though he knew nothing? No, I couldn't let that happen.

So I wandered.

I went around the park for a little while, watching people pass by as I walked, watching children play, watching the birds, watching. I wasnt sure how quickly this would all come to an end. There was a point in time where I could swear I heard sirens in the distance. My mind immediately went to a dark place, inventing images of blood and gore, my family and Juan's family slaughtered, body parts strewn around the two story mansion. And I imagined walking in and having Juan slaughter me right after, bringing my head back to his home and showing it to his lover, giving it to her as proof of what he would do for her love. As soon as the images started, though, they stopped. I found myself kneeling on the floor holding my stomach with one arm and with my other hand over my mouth, figthing back the urge to vomit.

But people stopped to stare.

More than anything, I didn't want them to stare. Because every time they stared, I felt him. I felt him staring too.

So I got up and left. I hadn't realized it, but many hours had passed by that time, so I started home. I didn't want him to be upset if I came home late. He said we had to be the perfect couple for our parents, so that they wouldn't want to leave ebfore he could do what he had to.

Now I stand here, staring at the door in front of me, a little afraid of-

"AAAAAIIII!"

My hand was on the knob before I even fully registered the scream. The adrenaline rushing through my body was only letting me focus on one thing: getting inside and hoping I was not too late.

"Mom! Dad!" I shouted, almsot half expecting them to be lying on the floor in a pool of their own blood. But...

"...Grandma?"

* * *

E/N: And that's where I'm stuck. I don't know what's up with Grandma? Lawl.


	10. Blood

A/N: Took a little longer to write this chapter, but it's kind of longer than the others too, forgive me! Enjoy.

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I really?**

**Chapter 10**

**Blood**

* * *

Danny got home shortly after he and Tucker met. He couldn't believe he had actually tried to lie to him. Tucker knew him in and out; they'd been best friends since he could even remember. Not to mention he was a terrible liar to begin with. He couldn't even remember how many times he tried to get away with, "I can explain!" without actually having any clue how to explain.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He stared at the picture of him, Sam, and Tucker. He had left it lying on his desk the night before. A small frown played on his lips as he remembered back to last night. Not even ten minutes had passed after he hung up the phone before he just couldn't take it anymore. Something inside him just couldn't help feeling that Sam was in desperate of help, help from him. But then again, maybe that was just his hero complex acting up.

Then again, maybe it was just his heart.

"I was right, though," he murmured to himself, staring at the picture. He picked it up and leaned it against the desk lamp in front of him. The smiling faces looked back him. Even though Sam told him not to worry and even though she _did_ look better when she left, there was still something odd. When he'd gone to go see her last night, he could swear she was crying. He had seen that guy, whoever he was, trying to pull fast one on her. He couldn't make out much, but it didn't look good at all. It didn't look like she wanted to...

But then, what if he WAS wrong? Then maybe they were toying around that night and Danny just misinterpreted the situation... After all, her parents must have been nearby that late at night. If she had just screamed, they'd be there in a heartbeat. Sam could have done _something_. Unless...

"Unless he's got something over her," he muttered. Yes! That must be it! It must be! It would explain everything! Sam was constantly worrying about him whenever he had to go fight off some ghost. That same kind of worry could be inerepreted many ways. For him, she's always on his case, helping him out when he really couldn't "explain" and watching his back. But let's say if it was up to her whether or not someone got hurt. She knew she couldn't control Danny; there's that hero complex, but what if it was she who was the hero this time? Surely, if that guy were threatening her somehow, maybe with something against him or her family, or anyone, really, Sam would take the punch. She was strong that way. "Strong..."

Danny stood and flopped onto his bed, leaving the photo behind. He curled up into a ball and lay there, motionless. If that guy really was threatening her somehow, how could Danny help her if she wouldn't even talk to him? She had been avoiding him for the past few days, him and Tucker. She was strong, but surely she knew that she was only human. No human could take so much from another... Not even Sam. And by the way her mood kept shifting, it was taking a toll on her.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, and placed the back of his hand over his eyes. He sighed.

The way she had looked at him in the hall at school. Those tears... He didn't know what, but something about her expression seemed _right_. It wasn't the expression of the Sam that had been avoiding him. It was the expression of the happy, goth, recyclo-vegetarian girl that he knew and loved.

Loved.

"How," he whispered, "how can I say that if I don't even know where to begin to help her..." He curled his free hand into a fist and slammed it onto his bed.

If he could just find out what it was! What it was that was keeping Sam quiet!

"But how...?"

* * *

Manson Residence.

"Grandma? What happened?" Sam closed the door slowly and inched into the room where her mother was knelt before her grandmother. The orange haired woman was gripping something red and white on her grandmother's lap. Sam frowned, unable to tell what it was. Surely it was she who had screamed, not her grandmother. But then why was she giving Grandma Whoopi such a worried look.

"Mom," Sam called. "What happened?" She was still closer to the door than to them. Mrs. Manso looked up, as did Grandma Whoopi. "Sam..." whispered Whoopi, her voice weak, not her usual boistrous, powerful voice. She tried to smile, but it quickly vanished.

"Samantha!" the younger woman cried. Tears had filled her eyes by then. A pouty lower lip made its way into her expression; it trembled. "Samantha, how could you...!"

Sam's forehead wrinkled. What? From off to the side of the overly large livingroom, two men came bounding into the scene, followed by a little woman. Mr. Manson held a white box with a red cross on it's top and Mr. Vick held a brown bottle. Mrs. Vick was holding a gauze. "We hope this is enough..." the little woman mumbled, worry clear in her voice.

"How bad is it, mother?" Mr. Manson asked, kneeling down next to the wheelchair.

Suddenly the pieces began to fall into place. The white and red cloth around her grandmother's hands, which rested on her lap. The gauze, the peroxide, the first-aid kit. Something had hurt her grandmother, and she was being blamed for it!

"will someone tell me what happened here?" she cried, rushing now to her grandmother's side. Though faced with much resistance from her mother, Sam managed to lift the bloody cloth from her grandmother's hand. She gasped, dropping it to the ground and feeling her stomach lurch again. Grandmother Whoopi's right hand was coated in a red glaze. Her left hand held onto the right one's wrist tightly, a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding without putting direct pressure onto the wound. The wound which appeared to be a deep cut into the center of her palm. A wound so clean, it almsot seemed like it had come from-

"Your knife," her mother pronounced slowly, a dark undertoned outlined the words. "The one mother bought you...for your 11th birthday, remember?"

Sam looked at the wound carefully. Yes, it was clean enough to have been fron a knife. She looked up at her grandmother's weary face. Sam had been wanting that little, antique dagger for a long time. She was to turn 11 and was at the peek of her goth stage when she fell deeply in love with the intricate carvings on the daggers handle. She had pleaded with ehr parents to buy it for her birthday, but they were relentless. Still, she hoped that maybe they would change their mind in time. Much to her despair, they didn't. Instead, she received countless dresses and jewelry pieces, items that she would never wear. To her surprise, however, by the time she had reached her bedroom in the evening, a small black satin box was there to greet her, top by a big purple bow. She had been hesitant at first, unsure of what it could be. She knew it wasn't from her parents, they would never endorse her favorite color so plainly. But if not them, then who?

A note scribbled in fancy lettering answered that question. In secret her grandmother had asked the butler to do a bit of shopping for her. She told him the exact address of the little antiue shop and where the display case was. As a reward, she'd gladly be nicer to him for as long as he wanted if he could keep it a secret. Of course, he was more than happy to oblige though he knew all too well that she would still bat his hands away whenever he would attempt to pull a chair out for her.

So that was it. The knife had been a secret between only she and her grandmother. The knife's very whereabouts was Sam's secret alone. So she was still left with one big blank. What _happened_?

"But how?" Sam murmured and scooted over as Jean knelt down beside her and began to clean the wound and dress it.

"I'm not sure," her grandmother replied, giving Sam a very sorrowful, almsot sorriful, expression; as if this had been her own fault, not Sam's. "I was eating lunch here, watching the telly and, well, when I try to get back onto my wheelchair and go into the kitchen, there it-" she flinched. Jean muttered an apology - "there it was lodged right in the spot." Sam wasn't sure where the "spot" was, but she could pretty much imagine how the story went.

"It's not bad," Jean said, patting her mother-in-law-to-be's knee. "It wasn't very deep, but we _should_ probably go get some stitches done." Whoopi nodded slowly.

"I'll get the car!" Mr. Manson cried, his voice slightly cracking. He was something of a wuss when it came to blood, Sam had learned long before.

"I'll call the hospital and let them know we're coming," John Vick added, a little more calm.

Sam stood as Jean started to wheel her grandmother away into the kitchen. "Here," she heard a voice say. She turned, coming face to face with her mother. She stare dinto her eyes for a second, still a little bewildered. Her eyes were cold, unfeeling, not really looking at her but rather trying to turn away more than anything. but knowing her, Sam thought to herself, she wouldn't dare be the first to walk away. between two finegrs she held out the blood tainted dagger. "Take this thing and get rid of it, I don't ever want to see it ever again. I have no clue why mother would even purchase such a dreadful thing, especially for _you_." Sam cringed at the emphasis, but took the blade all the same. the bloody blade felt cold in her hands, like ice. It spilled itno the designs carved into the handle, making them look deranged and shiny in the light.

"But..." Sam murmured. She looked back up at her mother's face, surprised to see her weeping now. "Mom, I..." She looked back down at her hands. "I didn't do it..."

Her mother sniffled and, with a handkerchief she'd taken from a pocket in her orangey dress, wiped the tears away. "We'll talk about it later."

"But mom...!"

"Dear, the car is ready!" shouted Mr. Manson from outside. Mrs. Manson turned in the direction of her husband's voice, completely ignoring the raven-haired girl next to her.

"Mom," Sam tried again, pleading.

"Get rid of it," was all her mother said, already having turned her back on the teen. With that out of the way, she grabbed her bag from the couch and rushed out the door. Within seconds, the car's quiet hum had grown distant enough to be virutally gone.

Sam blinked, fully realizing that they had really left. She could feel her eyes begin to fill with tears. It wasn't her fault! She still didn't even fully understand what was going on. She hadn't even been home all day! The only other person who was...

That was it. Her stomach almost lurched her forward, throwing her off balance. She managed to catch herself, though she came close to stabbing herself in the process. The knife fell from her hands as she clutched her abdomen, trying to keep what little she had eaten throughout the day down. She put a hand over her mouth and looked around the room quickly. There wasn't a single sound, not a mouse a cricket or even a car pulling into the driveway next door. Nothing.

Maybe he wasn't here...

Another escape attempt by her lunch reminded her of the where the nearest bathroom was.

Unfortunately, it was upstairs.

And she had to cross in front of his door to get there.

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, regaining enough composure to be able to walk to the bottomost step of the staircase that wound up. She wiped some of the still warm tears from her eyes and stared at the top for a little while.

Blood from the knife had stained her hands and now covered a bit of her face. The iron smell forced itself into her nose and made her dizzy.

_I can do this... _

She took the first step.

_He's not here..._

She took five more steps.

_He would have been here by now, gloating or something..._

She was almost at the top.

_Or, he would have at least been here to pretend to be worried..._

By now she was able to look down the hall, dimly lit by the embedded light sin the ceiling. All the doors down the hall were closed. She almost turned tail and climbed back down the stairs, but her stomach was still turning from the added smell of blood. If she didn't get to the toilet fast, her mother would have more to complain about than just bloodstains on the carpet.

_More than me trying to hurt Grandma..._

She closed her eyes, trying to fight back more tears. They weren't helping the situtation any further.

But she couldn't help it. She knew what her mother thought of her, as a troubled teen and rebellious, on top of it, but capable of hurting her own grandmother? Did she really think Sam would sink that low as to hurt the one family member that truly understood her? How could she even imagine it? So what if it was _her_ knife. They had let practical strangers into their home! One of which, mind you, was almost a self-proclaimed serial killer...

But how would they know? Only _she_ did...

She slammed her hand into the wall and felt like bashing her head agaisnt it too, but figured the pain in her stomach and the unnerving vertigo was enough discomfort for now. She made her way to the end of the hall and turned the knob of the white bathroom door. She made it just in time.

Sam had just knelt down and lifted the seat when her stomach decided enough was enough and spilled what foul liquids it had been storing. The bile stuck to the inside of her throat, burning as it exited. Tears burned in her eyes and for a moment she couldn't breathe.

Is this what dying must feel like? Uncontrollable pressure, your body trying with every fibre of its being to take just one last breath only to be crashed into again and again...

What seemed like an eternity later, her stomach was finally satisfied. All of Sam's energy had been swept out along with her poor breakfast. She let herself fall back onto the cold linoleum floor. The cool tiles felt lovely through her sweat soaked shirt. She closed her eyes, wiping her mouth clean of the foul liquids, and took a deep breath, trying to get her heart back into a normal rhythm. If Juan really was home, he would have been there by now, especially with all the adults gone.

Sigh.

She knew it must have been him who placed the knife in Granny's wheelchair. Who else could it have been? He must have gone through her room and found the knife, still in the same box with the little note and her grandmother's writing. He had put two and two together and planned to use this little secret to his advantage. Now not only did her mom think she was a devil's child and wouldn't listen even if Sam _tried_ to explain, it was proof that he meant business and that alone struck enough fear into her heart to keep her form even trying.

And in order to get back on her mom's good side, she needed to play nice with Juan.

Slowly, Sam sat up, leaning back on her arms as she contemplated this. _Play nice... and let him murder..._

"Why me?" she whimpered, feeling tears well up in her eyes again, but shhe held them back. Sniffling she took another deep breath and pulled her fet under her, standing up. Every step was a fight with her fatigue, but maybe a hot shower would help her think a little straighter.

She wandered into her room, grabbed some stuff, and made her way back to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

* * *

E/N: And there it is. I kind of liked this chapter, but I'm also looking forward to the next one. Let's see if I can make this work! Here goes!


	11. Distance

A/N: Next chapter. This one is a little intense, well, I thought so. The next few chapters are going to take a handsome twist, but we'll see how that goes. Let's do this!

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 11**

**Distance**

* * *

Sam turned the knob for the hot water a little more, letting the falling drops form streams of water on her skin. She wasn't sure how long she had been in the shower, but she knew it was long enough to cause the entire room to fill with steam. She had never been one to like the heat, but this was soothing. For however long it had been, her mind was clear. Standing there, motionless, without a single thing except the rising temperature of the water on her mind, it was bliss. She wasn't thinking about Juan, or her mom, or her grandmother...not even Danny. All she felt was the patter of the water from the shower head on her skin and hair. That was all.

Slowly, she picked one foot off the tub floor, balanced for a moment, and then switched to the other, getting a feel for her body again. She stretched her arms above her head and turned her head this way and that. The blood in her veins began to circulate again. She hadn't even realized that her eyes had been closed the entire time. Sam leaned her back against the cold, tiled wall, feeling chills spread through her otherwise feverishly warm body. She grabbed a shampoo bottle from the wire shelf and poured a bit of the sweet, cinnamon scented gel onto her hand. She replaced the bottle on the black wires and worked the stuff through her hair. She barely had the energy to grab the body wash, but routine begged her to. A few minutes later, the suds had vanished down the drain and the water's soft lullaby remained only as a distant thought.

As soon as Sam had stepped out the stall and into her pajamas, the fog her mind had claimed over her thoughts as well as the mist covering the only mirror in the room had vanished. When she saw her empty eyes staring right back at her in the glass, the thoughts came crashing back, destroying whatever tranquility she had acquired from the warm water. She turned her head away, clutching the small towel around her neck firmly in her hands and walked out the door.

She passed by Juan's door again, not even aware that she had done so until she reached her own door. Pause. Slowly, her eyes began to lift off the ground, gravitating towards the half way open door next to hers. It had been closed when she came to grab her stuff. Before she realized it, the thudding of her heart had begun to fill her ears and the muscles in her chest began to tighten.

_He was here._

_He'd been here the whole time._

Without her having to make any effort, the door of her room opened slowly. She looked inside. Everything was jsut as she had left it the morning before, down to the strewn clothing on the floor.

"No one," she mumbled quietly, walking in and picking the clothes up. She had felt so disgusting, she hadn't bothered to put them in the hamper. She was actually considering just burning them before her parents got home, but they would have been able to smell the stench of burning fibers. She walked to the hamper, tossed the clothes inside, and pursed her lips, looking towards the wardrobe across from her, the place where she'd kept the dagger safely hidden for years. How had he found it?

"It's very unlady like," came a dark mutter. Sam froze. Somehow he had made his way to her bed. She swallowed, gathering every bit of courage left in her weakened body, and turned around, slowly.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting on her bed, arms crossed lazily over his chest, his eyes glued to the wardrobe just as hers had been moments before. "I was actually extremely surprised to have found it," he chuckled. Juan rested his gaze on her now. "To think just a well brought-up, young Manson would keep such a ghastly weapon in her room. You should have known one day someone would get hurt."

Sam's fingers curled and uncurled into fists. She didn't know she was biting down on her lip until her canine had pierced it, causing iron blood to swirl onto her tongue. She felt sick again.

"Why did you do it?" she murmured, bringing a hand up to her mouth and cutting eye cotact with him. She knew the answer, why did she have to ask? He was trying to show her that he meant what he said those few nights ago.

But to her surprise, Juan ignored the question, he didn't even speak. His silence was long enough for her to look back up at him. A look of worry crossed his face. At least, she could swear that's what it was. He stood up; she flinched backward. The sudden movement threw her off balance and she fell, landing in a way that should have hurt, but Juan caught her. She blinked, on one hand surprised at how quickly he had moved, on the other wondering if he was going to kill her. She looked at him, a distant pulsing from the wound in her mouth making her feel distorted. Juan brushed wet locks of hair from her face. She froze beneath his touch. His hands felt like ice against her warm skin, sending shivers through her body. She trembled. "You're bleeding," he said, voice gentle, a voice she was not used to hearing from his mouth. She reached for her lip subconsciously. A little bit of blood had colored her teeth and passed onto her bottom lip. She shook her head, trying to push herself out of his arms, but he held onto her tightly.

"It's nothing," she said, frantic now. Her heart began to beat faster and faster, the bruises on her arms began to ache with anticipation. "I'm okay, it doesn't hurt." What does he care anyway. Her brows furrowed, wrinkling her forehead as she continued to stare into his eyes. They looked distant, clouded, losing their mesmerizing ability by the second. "Are you sure?" he murmured, voice barely audible. Sam nodded.

This was so strange. Her eyes flitted around his face, trying to search for what it was that was different about him. There they were, in her room, the one she had lived in for so long, and there he was, dressed just as he had been that morning when she left for school, with the same hair cut, same face, but something was different. Her heart was still beating fast, but it wasn't fear, it was anxiety. The same kind of anxiety she sometimes felt when Danny was gone on patrol for too long without reporting back. She wasn't scared _of_ him, she was scared _for_ him. But why?

This was the same boy who had threatened to kill her family, her, and even his own. Why did she suddenly feel compelled to pull him into her arms and comfort him? She looked into those distant blue-green eyes again, wondering, searching...

Then it was gone.

A wretched smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her eyes widened and the fear was back, a weight on her chest. Her breathing picked up the pace as he lifted a hand to her face, cupping her chin between three fingers. And suddenly the vulnerable side of Juan Vick was replaced by the murderer that visited her at night. Her body tensed, but she couldn't move.

"Juan." The word escaped her lips before she knew she had even uttered it. Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over. The eyes were back. The energy drained from her body faster the longer she stared into them. Somehow, she couldn't find the srength to fight back as he hugged her a little closer and pulled in until their lips were pressed together.

Her eyes closed, allowing the tears to run down her cheeks.

_No, no, please..._

She felt the hand on her chin fall back to touch her hair, supporting her head as he parted from the kiss. She was sure the blood from her lip must have stained his own lips, but she didn't want to open her eyes. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered menacingly, "Your scent is intoxicating, what is that? Cinnamon?" She trembled, his warm breath feel moist against her skin.

She felt him nibble her ear for a second, before a floating feeling entered her body. He had lifted her up in his arms very easily, despite her being dead weight at the moment. He laid her down carefully onto the purple dressed bed and then climbed over her, trailing small kisses down her neck to the dip between her collarbones.

Sam's eyes were squeezed shut now. Every touch made her stomach flip and an uncontrollable urge to push him away run through her entire body, making her skin crawl. She clenched her teeth, afraid to speak, afraid to make him upset. He was being kind now. The times she had struggled, he had hurt her, causing the bruises on her arms. If she didn't struggle, he might stop on his own. He might leave her alone before he did any real damage. Before he stole anything more from her...

"Danny..."

Juan stopped. Sam's eyes snapped open and her heart turned to ice. Juan was staring at her, eyes narrowed, eyes crazy. They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity.

_What? Did I say that? Why? Why would I say Danny's name at a time like this?_

"Danny?" Juan asked. He'd heard that name somewhere before. But where? "Who's Danny?"

Sam pursed her lips. She shook her head, a silent refusal to speak. He narrowed his eyes further, pushing his face closer to hers. She tried to push him away, he grabbed her arms and held them tightly over her head. He asked again.

"Who's Danny?"

Then the door bell rang

* * *

E/N: I'm pretty sure we can all figure out what's going to happen next. But then again, maybe I'll surprise you? Hm.


	12. Fiancee

A/N: Next chapter. It's getting a little confusing, even for me, but hang in there for me! Things will hopefully - clear up soon. Here we go!

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 12**

**Fiancee**

* * *

Juan continued to stare at Sam, she continued to stare at him. Her heart still felt like a chunk of ice in her chest, heavy, making her body tense. The door bell rang again.

Thoughts raced through her head. It was clearly late at night, maybe about 8:30 or so. Not many people were out right now, especially since it's a school night for teens and a work night for the adults. It wouldn't be her parents, why would they need to ring the door bell? And the Vicks wouldn't have come back without at least one of the Mansons with them. So then who?

Ring.

Juan sighed, exasperated, and got off the bed, making his way to the half open door. He grabbed the knob and turned towards her, his eyes still aflame with - what was it? disgust? He clicked his tongue. "Don't move," he murmured. A sick grin cross his features. "We'll continue our little talk when I get back."

With that, he walked out the room and closed the door behind him with a soft click of the lock. Sam gasped, feeling as if she had been holding her breath the whole. Actually, she wouldn't be surprised if she actually had been. She closed her eyes, trying to think back to the exact moment Danny entered her mind. She couldn't. Somehow, in the middle of the struggle between trying to squirm free and trying to remain as still as possible, she had thought of him. And without a second thought, or even a first, she had whispered his name into Juan's hair.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, staring up through the darkness at the ceiling. A chill entered her body though none of the windows were open. For some reason, the room had cooled down to an unimaginable temperature. Maybe it was the sweat on her skin. Maybe it was that though Juan's hands had been cold, his body had been warm and now he had gone. Or maybe...

She shook her head, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. "He wouldn't be here..." She rested her chin on her knees and hugged them closer, trying to regain whatever warm she could from the cold air. At least, for however long it would take Juan to reach the door, she could be calm. She could think.

Think, she thought to herself, about those eyes.

Downstairs. Juan had looked up and down the hallway before continuing down the stairs, almost expecting whoever it was ringing the doorbell to have made their way up to meet him here. But that was impossible. There was no way Sam's grandmother had been let out so quickly. Even for a rich family, something like a few stitches was not exactly an "emergency."

He paused at the spot where the dirty white rag had been dropped. He sniffed, cursing the incompetence of this family, and kicked it off to the side, out of sight jus tin case the person at the door tried to come inside. The door bell rang again. "Jesus," he murmured. "Coming..."

Why would someone come over so late anyway?

He paused the door, straightening his clothes and taking a deep breath. He turned the lock and opened the door a crack. "Yes?" he murmured, voice quiet. It was not as good an impression as the real thing, but it would have to do. He couldn't risk letting _him _come out right now.

Outside was a kid with a red jacket - it was a cold night - and blue jeans, his back turned to Juan. At the sound of his voice, however, the figure quickly turned, apparently surprised at actually having the door answered. He was sort of expecting to be left out in the cold. Baby blue eyes met blue-green and for a few seconds, all they could do was stand there staring at each other.

Juan blinked. There was something odd about him, this raven haired teen. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, trying to figure out what it was. But at least he wasn't the only one troubled. In those blue eyes he could also sense the stranger trying to figure out Juan as well, as if trying to place him. "Have we..." the boy started, voice quiet. "met before?"

The question was unexpected, probably even for the stranger, because as soon as it had left his mouth, he shook his head and cleared his throat, starting over. "Is Sam...home?"

Juan, lost in his share of confusion, found himself nodding his head. There goes that plan. "Who are you?" he questioned, his voice having a sharper edge than he had hoped for. The other teen blinked at him and flashed a rather sheepish smile, seemingly more comfortable now.

"I'm a friend from school," he said. "I guess she doesn't really want to see me, but, uh, if you cna let her know Danny came to see her? I guess I can just call later, or maybe you can ask her to call me? I'm sorry for the bother." No, he wasn't comfortable. His words came out rushed, as if he were trying to get away before Juan could say he could come in.

Then he noticed something. "Danny?" Juan murmured. The raven boy, having already stepped down to the bottom of the porch, stopped smiling and only stared for a second. "You're name is Danny?"

Said boy nodded. "Yeah, I'm Sam's friend."

Juan nodded slowly, a secret smile forming behind his otherwise plain expression. So this was him. How utterly ridiculous! This clumsy looking, sheepish kid was who she expected to save her? after all, what other reason could she have to why she whispered his name? How utterly _ridiculous!_

"Actually, Sam is home," Juan said. He'd never said he wasn't, but somehow he had to keep this Danny boy here. He wanted to show Sam that secrets never stayed secrets. Danny hesitated. He stared at Juan, chewing on his bottom lip. "I could go call her if you want to wait a second."

Again, Danny contemplated this in silence. Juan's inner smirk grew wider. He could feel the anxiety practically radiate from this guy. It was _glorious_.

After a minute or two, he nodded. Juan beamed. "Alright, just give a quick minute, I'll be-"

As he spoke, Juan had turned to look up at the stairs, to his surprise, Sam was peeking through, terror clear in his amethyst eyes, the door pen just wide enough to give her a glimpse of Danny's figure in the light pouring outside. "Oh!" Juan murmured. "Sam! You're just in time!" The girl didn't move. "Someone's here to see you! It's Danny, your _friend_."

At this last word, Juan added special emphasis. A kind of smug oil smearing and enveloping the word. A kind of eeriness that made Sam almost collapse. Why...?

Before she had fully regained her composure, Juan swung the door open so she could look outside. Danny blinked and looked up. Their eyes met for a split second, his mouth opened as he mouthed out her name.

This was her chance. She could scream, warn him, run and slam the door closed, ready to take whatever punishment Juan would deal her later. This was her chance!

But instead her face carried kind of smile on it as she started to walk down the stairs, her movements calm and calculated. "Danny," she found herself saying. "That's a surprise." As she reached the bottom step, she caught a glance from Juan. He was still smiling, but there was something about the way his eyes searched her face that let her know he was puzzled at her reaction. She came up next to him and leaned towards him a little. As if they had practiced this time and time again, Juan took his cue and warmed an arm around her waist, Danny staring with complete incredulity all the while.

Sam crossed her arms over her chest, glad her pajamas consisted of sleeves just long enough to cover the bruises, even though she was sure her lip must looked a little more red and swollen than this morning. "What brings you here?" she asked, voice clear.

Danny took a step back, his eyes flitting between her smiling face and Juan's. "I..." he started, trying to find some excuse some reason for his being there when everything looked so...so _perfect._

_She's okay..._

"Oh," Sam said, laughing a little. "I'm sorry, did you meet Juan?"

Juan laughed too. Danny watched them. "That's right! I never introduced myself!" Juan murmured, as if calling himself silly. "My name is Juan Vick."

He extended his hand towards Danny who took it cautiously, still confused. "Danny Fenton," he found himself murmuring, brows furrowed.

"Juan," Sam said, eyeing the boy curiously, taking in his every gesture, trying to see if her plan was working. _I'm sorry, Danny_, she thought, _I'm sorry, but I can't involve you. I just can't._

_I'm sorry it had to be this way._

"He's, uh..."

"I'm her fiancée."

* * *

Bonus:

I'd been standing in front of her door for, maybe, a whole of ten minutes. To be honest, I didn't even intend to end up here. It started off as sjut an innocent walk, not really any destination in mind. I had had enough of staring at pictures, my mind clouded, and the cool wind whistling outside had seemed ideal. I grabbed my jacket, mumbled a gruff "I'm going for a walk" to my parents in the kitchen, and started walking. Somehow my feet brought me to the grandiose mansion Tucker and I had discovered was Sam's home a while back.

So here I was.

I climbed up the four steps of porch and stared at the door. A few times my hand went up to the door bell, unsure of whether or not I was doing the right thing. Every time my hand fell back down to my side. What if Sam really didn't want me here? She hadn't bothered to even look at me when he ditched me earlier in the day. Maybe she was being serious about her being okay. I bit my lower lip. Again the argument I had with myself in my room filtered through my brain. If she could tell me, with a straight face, with a smile, that she was perfectly fine, then that would be it. I'd leave her alone. I wouldn't bother her about it - whatever _it_ was - ever again. I promised.

It took all the courge I could muster to finally push the button, listening as the sound filled the entire mansion, as if it was empty. Then, something funny happened. I shivered in my jacket and hugged my arms on instinct. I almost expected my ghost to go off, but after a few moments of nothing, I gave up on the idea. Just in case, my eyes scanned the skies. Nothing.

I sighed, rubbing my arms a little to get rid of the goosebumps. I pursed my lips and tried the doorbell again. This time I could swear I heard movement echo inside the big house. "I hope it's you, Sam," I mumbled, waiting for whoever it was to open the door. If her parents were homes, they'd either stare him down until he didn't want to wait for Sam, or simply lie and tell him Sam's not home. He frowned at the thought. A minute passed by and still no one had opened the door.

_Or they could just ignore me..._

Before I could stop myself, I had rung the doorbell again. I shook my head, no one was going to open the door. Maybe Sam really was okay...

I had turned around to leave by the time I heard a mutter from inside. Just as I had reached the bottom step, light from inside the building flooded out. For a second I stared at my shadow.

"Yes?" a voice asked, male, and young too, probbaly my age. I blinked. It was also familiar. I turned around and had to catch myself before I gasped. The goosebumps returned with more ferocity than before and I had to force myself not to shiver. My eyes stared into those of the teen before for what seem an eternity. I didn't even notice myself mumbling, "Have we...met before?"

I know I've seen him somewhere, I know it. Somewhere. I shook my head, clearing my throat and breaking away from his stare. A sense of urgency had spilled into my system, adrenaline spiking in my blood. This guy...there was something weird about him.

Who _was_ he?

_What was he?_

* * *

E/N: It's taking a LOT of effort to keep this story line straight, ahahaha. But I'm trying my best here!  
If you need any clarification, like maybe something from one chapter contradicts something in this chapter, or anything like that, please please PLEASE let me know. Because if you're confused, chances are so are others!

Until next time!


	13. Glint

A/N: I like this chapter, but I hope I'm not rushing things. This is what I get for writing on impulse. v.v Enjoy!

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 13**

**Glint**

* * *

Danny blinked, eyes wide, somehow feeling as if this were all just a dream and maybe instead of taking a walk, he had fallen asleep. This couldn't be truly happening. They were only _fifteen_. A fiancée? No way... it just ...it just couldn't be true. No way. But as he looked from one smiling face to the other, there just couldn't be any doubt. Juan was looking at Sam with a kind of incredible happiness, maybe a tinge of disbelief, the kind of face you get when you try so, so hard at something and then finally achieve it. A kind of _satisfaction_, contentment. And Sam... Oh, Sam. She was looking at him with her beautiful lilac eyes, the kind of eyes she looked at him with that night at the school dance when the dragon ghost attacked. The kind of eyes, he knew, that he would kill for to have look at him the way she looking at Juan.

But that beautiful gaze wasn't for him. Not tonight.

"Fian...cée..." he said slowly, fighting the scowl forming on his face at the feel of the word on his tongue. It made him itch. It made him ache.

Sam nodded, allowing Juan to pull her in a little closer, and place a hand on his chest. They looked like a newly married couple. It almost made him sick. "Yeah," Sam said, voice confident, pure, clear, moving her gentle eyes from Juan's face to Danny's. "My parents told me the other day that I had been betrothed, and, honestly, for once they got something right!"

Danny's brows furrowed upward and, for a second, his heart began to sink. Then he saw it. Juan's hand tightened a little too much around her waist. Sam's hand trembled a little, the slightest bit, and then, just barely visible behind them on the floor, something shiny and red. What happened next happened as if in slow-motion. Danny's brows came downward in the middle as he switched his attention to the shiny red object leaving a stain on the white rug inside. He took the hand Sam had on Juan's chest in his own and tried to pull her towards him, her mouth opening into a scream his ears didn't hear as the adrenaline rushed through his body, his mind focusing only on trying to get her away from _him_.

Juan yanked her back, obvious pain filtering through Sam's otherwise incredulity, her arms feeling like they were being ripped apart, the bruised skin being stretched by the two powerful teens. Juan succeeded in pulling her back, firing what Danny supposed were insults at the teen opposite him. All Danny did was point a finger at the bloody knife glistening in the light inside the house. Both Juan and Sam turned to look and terror seemed to make Sam's thin frame stiffen. Her glance flew back to Juan, said teen scowling at her, but turning to Danny instead. By this time their shouts had attracted the notice of the neighbors across the street and next to the Manson mansion.

Sam's face flushed as people started to stare at her through their windows, the silent argument seeming louder and louder by the second in her head. Her eyes flitted between the two arguing teens, heart fluttering in her chest, thoughts dizzying with paranoia. Before she knew it, she had tears in her eyes and finally, after eons of silence, the thick tension was broken by a single, loud clap, vibrating the atoms in the air like a miniature nuclear bomb. She blinked.

Her hand hurt, but she couldn't recall why. Blue eyes met lilac and two and two were put together. But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry, not even when Danny's jaw dropped a little, surprised that the blow had come form her. Juan grimaced, but said nothing. Their eyes, hers and Danny's, remained locked for several seconds before he threw his face to the side and brought down the hand that had instinctively come to touch his reddening cheek, fingers burying into his palms painfully.

"Danny," she started, voice trembling with fury.

"Why," he whispered softly, voice trembling also. But not from anger. He refused to look at her, his raven hair hiding most of his face. But she could see the lone tear rolling down his cheek. She swallowed down the knot in her throat. "why," he said again, louder this time. He brought one fist up, as if studying the white knuckles, but she knew his eyes must be closed against the pain.

The ache in his heart.

"Why are you defending him?" She could feel the edge of pain in his voice cut through her like the metaphorical knife through butter. Having almost forgotten Juan, she couldn't help the chills that rocked her body when he wrapped his arms defensively around her again.

"You should leave." The words vibrated in his chest; she could feel it on her back. Her eyes floated to Juan's face and then to Danny, just in time to see him bare his teeth before shooting Juan a disgusted look, emphasized by the glittering in his eyes, the tear streaks on his face illuminated by the glow of fluorescent, indoor lights.

"I wasn't talking to _you_," he snarled through clenched teeth. Juan blinked. He could swear the teen's eyes had just flashed... As if on cue, bright headlights from a vintage, glossy black car came down the street, stopping just outside the mansion. Three Mansons and two Vicks climbed, Mrs. Manson running towards the teens. Sam's eyes met her mother's for a split second before quickly staring at the ground. Danny's never left Juan's.

"Samantha!" The woman cried, staring from the couple n the doorstep to Danny and then the staring neighbors beginning to recede into their homes at the sight of her. She looked at Sam again, whispering harshly, "What on earth are you doing outside?" her eyes narrowed at Danny. "And what is _he_ doing here?"

"I was just leaving," Danny muttered, ignoring the ugly emphasis in her words. He looked at Sam for a second, turning away. By this time the others had managed their way towards the door as well, Mr. Manson coming over to calm down his wife. The neighbors had had enough of a show.

"I'm sorry for the trouble."

"You very well should be!" Mrs. Manson nearly screeched, anger clear on her face. Danny did Stir, only turned to leave. "Don't you dare show your face here again!"

"Mom..." Sam murmured weakly. Juan hushed her.

"No," Danny said, on the sidewalk now. He turned just enough for Sam to be able to see part of his face, but he dared not look up. "It's fine, Mrs. Manson, I promise not to come back."

Surprised at how quickly the boy had given up, Mrs. Manson huffed, unsure of what else to say. "Well, good, then," she said. She turned to the rest of her party. "We should head inside, it's getting a bit too chilly for mother..."

Sam let everyone pass by her and into the building, watching as Danny's figured walked slowly down the sidewalk in the direction of FentonWorks, the lights in her neighbors' windows turning off as he went, aware that the display was over.

Without a word, Juan showed her inside, he too taking one last glance at Danny.

_I'm sorry..._

The door shut.

* * *

E/N: So, what do you think? Danny's heart has just been ripped out... Why would Sam stick up for that monster?


	14. Pills

A/N: I felt a little awkward about this chapter, not sure why. I have a pretty good guess that it's the introduction of Danny's parents and sister (I don't know why, but I like avoiding them when I write stories; if not just his parents.) But, you have waited, and thereofre msut be rewarded, so here it is!

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 14**

**Pills**

* * *

The rest of the night passed Sam by like a blur of movements and sounds through water. Her mom had taken one step inside the house and saw the dagger still lying on the floor. She cursed and told Sam to throw it away, but the girl was long gone up the stairs. Juan volunteered to take it, but Grandma Whoopi, her hand bandaged up with, no doubt, stitches beneath the white gauze, shook her head and picked the knife up herself. She rolled her way into the kitchen, rinsed it, and wiped away most of the blood from the engravings. This was a gift, no matter how tainted, and she was sure Sam would honor that. Mrs. Manson was in utter and complete shock at the show, but said nothing, merely stormed into her room as well, followed in suit by her husband. The Vicks watched uncertainly, not sure what they should do. Juan had taken a seat on the sofa and looked distant, so they decided not to bother him with questions and instead wound up in their room as well.

Slowly, almost purposely slow, Grandma Whoopi made her way out of the kitchen, the dagger on a thin white cloth on her lap. Her eyes wandered around the now dimly lit room and then rested on Juan's shoulders, all she could see from the kitchen door. His head was hung low in what she may have thought was either confusion or deep thought. She blinked, making her way towards him until she was right behind him. He didn't seem to notice; she smiled. "Sam," she said quietly, pride in her voice. Juan still didn't move. "She's strong, you know. Just like I was, nothing like her mother."

A few seconds went by as she waited for a kind of response, maybe even a single movement, anything. She continued.

"And you know, maybe she can be weak sometimes, _foolish_, even, but she'll come back. No one has ever broken her before. Her heart, maybe, but never her will."

Juan lifted a brow. Whoopi couldn't see it, but she knew he was listening. She smiled, looking at the pretty designs on the handle of the weapon on her lap.

"No matter what anyone says or does, she'll come back. She always will." Grandmother Whoopi didn't wait for him to respond this time. She made her way to the back of the room and vanished into a hall.

Juan had leaned forward on his elbows, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he thought. the old woman was right. He had been positive she had begun to change from the very moment she learned about his plan. Then she changed back. It was as if she was gaining strength instead of having it diminish. But what had caused the change? What would make her gain strength when it was obvious there was no way she could win? She couldn't tell her parents, they'd never believe her. His own parents were completely brainwashed into believing he was the ideal son, smart, kind, hard-working, _perfect_. Yes, that old woman seemed to be the only one who still believed in her, but how much could an old woman take? As son as she saw the goth-girl broken, she would _have_ to give up, two birds with one stone.

As for her friends...

Danny.

Juan wasn't sure if Sam had any other friends, but for sure this Danny guy was a part of how she had gained back her strength. Surely this boy was one of those she was trying to protect by not involving him.

Yes, all the pieces were coming together. Juan almost shouted with joy, watching his plan form before his very eyes. Joy bubbled in his chest, sickening joy, she would had thought, but the kind that made it seem that if he did shout, scream, _move_, he would surely suffocate. The thumb on his left hand awkward rubbed against the top of his palm, before coming to rest against his lips. His other hand went for the black cell phone in his pocket and he dialed in his favorite number. On the other end, the usual female voice answered. He smiled, getting up and walking into the kitchen.

"My dear," he whispered, his voice soft, his eyes as if in a trance from the melodic song on the other end. "My dear, I'm sorry it has taken so long, but I've got it."

He stopped right at the sink, staring out through the window at the bright, crescent moon outshining all the stars. "I know what to do now, I promise I'll be with you soon."

"...thanks for calling, and I'll try to get back to you soon!"

"Yes, my love, I promise we'll be together soon."

* * *

Wednesday. 7:32 A.M. FentonWorks.

Danny vaguely remembered how he got home the night before. All that he could remember was how his heart had shattered the moment Sam had lifted her hand and connected it with his face. He knew for sure that he must have wandered around for a few hours because by the time he arrived at home, his hands and face were numb from the cold and his feet felt as if he'd been walking nonstop the whole time. Where he had walked to, he didn't know; but he'd ended up at home, so that was all that mattered. Even though he had a pounding head ache and chills, no doubt with a fever in tow. After that, he knocked out, collapsed onto the couch downstairs. He figured his dad must have woken up to the sound of the door and saw him there before carrying him to his room because that's where he woke up.

Woke up with yet an even more massive head ache and, sure enough, a fever. He groaned, his whole head feeling like it was being squeezed by some maleficent ghost and the back of his eyes hot, chills running down his back. In the back of his mind he hoped that maybe, just maybe, no one would notice he was still in bed, he could stay home from school.

"Danny?" came a soft, female voice from his bedroom door. Just the sound of other life made Danny scowl and pull the blankets over his head. Said other life knocked on the door quietly, calling again, "Danny, you in there?"

"No, Jazz, go away."

Despite his hoarse plea, which didn't quite come out as strongly as he had hoped, he heard his bedroom door open and the slight figure of his sister step in. "Danny, what's wrong?" she asked, walking towards him. She brushed away red strands of hair from her face as she sat on the edge of his bed, gazing at his cloth covered form worriedly. She hadn't seen Danny like this in...well, in forever. Sure, no one was ever happy about going to school, but Danny was sending off another kind of vibe. That, mixed in with how he'd been acting for the last couple days - she had seen him moping around - let her know something must be very wrong. She hadn't wanted to ask, afraid he might tell her that everything was fine, but maybe now was the time.

She bit her lower lip, debating whether or not to pull the blankets off his head so she could look at him. Defeated, she merely sat there, calm, sure that he would answer her question. And if he didn't, maybe it would just be comforting to have her. She _hoped_ anyway.

Sure enough, Danny peeked out from beneath his covers, staring at his sister through sleepy eyes. Jazz was looking as her hands, not him, but he was sure she knew he had finally looked out. He sighed, turning over on his side so his back was turned to her. "I think I'm sick," he murmured. He knew this might not be the answer she was looking for, but it would have to do. Jazz, he knew, had probably already figured out that he was hiding something from her and despite the fact that it wa sin her nature to be persistent - oh man, did he know that! - it was comforting to have her sit there silently without asking too many questions about the real reason he seemed to have no intention of going to school.

"How do you feel?"

"My head hurts realllly bad, and my eyes feel hot. I think I have a fever."

He felt Jazz shift on his bed, lean over him, and place an icy, cold hand on his forehead. The frown on her face was practically audible as she said, "That's an understatement...I wouldn't doubt the only reason you're still thinking properly is because of your ghost powers...your temperature feels like it's in the danger zone for regular humans." She removed her hand and stood, walking quietly to the door as she spoke, "I'll go get some medicine for your head ache and hopefully it reduces your fever too. I'll tell mom you're too sick for school..."

Her voice trailed off and her foot steps stopped. Danny knew his room like the back of his hand, there was no way she was out the door yet. He blinked, though his eyes were closed, and waited.

"Do you want me to stay with you...? Or do you want me to tell mom to make you some soup?" Her voice was soft, worried, as if she was trying her very hardest to be there for him, wanting so bad to ak what was wrong, but kind of expecting him to say no. He held back a sigh; she wouldn't believe how badly he wanted to ask for her advice, ask her what was wrong with Sam, why she would rather break him apart than ask for his help, the help he knew she needs. The help she must also know she needs. But he couldn't. If Sam wanted to be like that, then fine. But what if...?

Maybe if he tried again, this time not go through Sam and just corner that guy, force him to leave her alone...

No. Sam wanted it this way. If she thinks she's so smart and strong and can handle it on her own and doesn't want him around, who cares. It's her choice. If she asks, then of course he will help. But if she just refuses to even tell him what's going on and goes through looking at Juan like that, as if showing off to the world, then fine. Fine. Fine. _Fine_.

Danny could be childish too, just like her. He could.

Hearing no response made Jazz's heart fall a little. She desperately wanted to help him out, or at least listen to him. "Do... you want me to page Tucker? Let him know you're not going to school?"

She saw Danny nod his head. _At least I know he's listening..._

"Okay, I'll be right back with the medicine and some water, and then I've got to go," she said, covering the remaining distance to the door.

"Thanks, Jazz."

"Not a problem, little brother."

Jazz did as she had said. After a couple of rounds, she had acquired a glass of water - _real _ water - and some pills for Danny's fever. She was just about to open the door to his room when she saw her mother come out of the restroom, wet hair in a tangle. "Morning, mom."

Maddie smiled, gripping the towel around her neck. Then she caught sight of what Jazz was carrying, and her brows furrowed with worry. She stopped midway in the hall, looking at her daughter. "Is Danny sick?" she mumbled. Jazz nodded. "What about school?"

Jazz looked down at the glass of water, rotating her wrist a little and watching it twirl in the glass. "He said he's got a really bad head ache, and his temperature is pushing it, so I really don't think he should push himself..." Maddie nodded slowly, her eyes floating from her daughter, to the floor, then in the direction of her own room from which a loud snoring was coming from.

"Well, Jack is still asleep, I guess I'll take advantage of the time and make him some chicken soup." Jazz nodded and continued to try to open the door to Danny's room. By this time Maddie had already made it half way down the stairs when she called out again. Jazz stopped to look. "Oh, sweetie, if you want, I can also drop you off at school, it's getting late. That way I can also stop by the grocery store to get some stuff for the soup."

"Okay, thanks mom!"

"Not a problem, dear, just hurry!"

"Okay," Jazz mumbled, opening the door and walking inside. Her school bag was already downstairs, so all she had to do was make sure Danny took the medicine. "I figured one capsule may not be enough for your fever, so I brought two," she started, walking into the room. She looked up from what she was holding and stopped, blinking, "...just in...case?" The room was exactly as she had left it when she went down stairs a few minutes ago, but it was missing one vital component. "Danny?" His sheets were a mess, so she knew she had deifntiely not been hallucinating his presence. But then where was he? She frowned, walking over to his desk and putting down the glass of water and the napkin with the pills on it. Running water caught her ear.

Unlike hers and her parents' rooms, Danny's had an en suite bathroom, a luxury. He often woke up late, so it was a way for him to not have to hassle his way into the bathroom every morning. Jazz sighed, walking over to the closed bathroom door and knocking. "Danny, medicine on your desk. Mom's gonna drop me off at school, then head to the grocery store so she can make you some soup."

"Okay!" came his reply. She pursed her lips, but asked nothing further. "Bye."

"Bye, see you after school. And don't work yourself too hard!"

"Kay!"

And with that, Jazz left.

* * *

E/N: Somehow, it was painful. Guuhhhhh. Who wants Jazz to have a bigger part in the story? NOT ME.

But if you outnumber me then fine. . -.

Love you guys!


	15. Preparation

A/N: So, so, SO sorry this took awhile to get up here! I was very busy this last week. By the way, for those of you that are old fans (Doubt I have many of my old reviewers here, BUT IF YOU ARE!) and you have read my story "I'm Your Boyfriend!", I have some good news for you. If you are a new reviewer and have not read that story, this might interest you as well. Stay tuned!

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 15**

**Preparation**

* * *

Tucker was sitting on the front steps of the school, watching the students file in. One of his elbows was propped onto his knee, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. First Sam starts being totally moody and now Danny's even later than usual. _I wonder if he got attacked by a ghost or something..._

Slowly, the boy went through the motions of checking his watch. The bell was due to ring in a few minutes. Surely if he waited just a little longer... "No," he sighed. "I need to get to class and make up some excuse for him." He was just about to get up and walk into the school when a white RV pulled up to the school. Tucker blinked; Danny hated it when he got dropped off to school. It was always a cause of others to stop and stare at the car-like contraption. To his surprise, however, it wasn't _Danny_ who stepped out at all; it was Jazz. The ginger waved as the car pulled away and then turned to him, waving at him now too. He smiled and waved back though confused as he was. She raced towards him, book bag in hand, and stopped right next to him. "Hey, Jazz." Confusion was still clear in his voice. It wasn't everyday that Jazz came to school without Danny. Well, at least not when even Tucker didn't know where the ghost kid was.

"Hi, Tucker," Jazz replied in her usual cheery voice, but then her face fell a little. Not enough for most people to be able to tell, but Tucker could. "Uh, Danny...felt...really sick...today."

The techno geek nodded slowly, trying to comprehend what hidden message Jazz was trying to convey. She shifted her weight, trying not to look directly at him. "Okay," he murmured. "I'll-"

"Go see him," she butted in, the plea obvious in her tone. She looked at him shyly, worriedly. "I hope it's not too much, you guys _are_ best friends, but, you know, just go talk to him after school, if you can."

Tucker side-frowned, his brows furrowed. So, Danny didn't get anywhere with Sam after all. Tucker knew he would try _something_ to get Sam to tell him what was up, and he had also been sure Danny would succeed, them being secretly - oh so secretly - in _love_ with each other, but apparently not. And to make things worse, now he even had _Jazz_ worried. Oh, he was so not going to be able to lay low now. But Tucker nodded anyway. He gave Jazz an assuring smile; he knew she needed one right about now. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll be fine," he added. Almost immediately Jazz's face lit up. She was just about to add something else, but the bell rang, cutting their awkward conversation short. Instead, she waved at him again and bounded inside, him following suit, until they parted ways in the maze of halls.

Let's jsut say Tucker was a little surprised to find that Sam was already sitting in class when he got there. For a moment all he did was stare at her from the doorway, completely unaware of the fact Lancer was staring at him. Said man raised a brow at Tucker, then at Sam. He, too, had noticed that something odd had been going on between the three friends, but how weird was the situation to have the boy staring at his friend as she had two heads? The bell rang and Tucker still stood there. Lancer frowned. "Mr. Foley," he said. Tucker blinked and looked at the slightly overweight english teacher.

"Huh?"

_I swear these kids say "huh" more times a day than real sentences._ Lancer merely motioned towards Tucker's seat next to Sam. He sat down without a word.

Still, he continued to look at Sam, even after Lancer began his lesson for the day. Tucker waited until they were haf-way through the period to finally summon all the courage in his being to talk to her. The whole time she hadn't said a word, only doodled idly in her notebook. She hadn't even looked at him. "S-" he started, then that newly found courage left him. It would be easier if Danny were here. All Tucker would have to do was make sure neither got into a fist fight and add a little comic relief. But when it was just him and Sam, especially with that dark aura she was giving off, it was a little intimidating. He and Danny had known each other forever, but Sam and him had only met in middle school when she moved into Amity Park. She and Danny had hit it off immediately (they were over the whole elementary school "cootie" phase). As Danny's best friends, she'd accepted Tucker almost as immediately, but when their link was missing, it was still occasionally a little tough, especially when she was this quiet. She was always the strong willed one, confident, carrying on a conversation. Tucker was bold, don't get me wrong, but that was towards girls that were, well, just _girls_. He could say whatever he wanted to them. If they beat him up a little, whatever, he could avoid them for the rest of his life. But _Sam_. Sam was his friend. He couldn't avoid _her_, no way. She was important to him. He didn't want to mess up.

He bit his lip nervously and quickly scribbled a message on a little sheet of paper. After folding it carefully and waiting for Lancer's back to turn to the class, he slipped the note onto her desk just far enough to touch her elbow. She visibly flinched, caught by surprise. For a moment all Sam did was stare at the note, as in wondering what it was. Then she looked at Tucker. He gave her a sheepish grin and turned to listen to Lancer; she doubted he actually was. Sam sighed. All this time she had been trying her very hardest to pretend Tucker wasn't there. She had already hurt Danny more than she could ever have imagined herself doing so; she didn't want to have to do the same to Tucker. It was evident that Tucker knew not to get too involved, he has always given her however much space she needed, but she couldn't be too careful. Slowly, she grabbed the note, considered tossing it into her backpack, then, with a quick glance at Lancer's back, she opened it. It's contents couldn't have been any more depressing; she bit her lip.

_how come ur acting so weird?_

How could she reply to that? Here she was, her best friend sitting right next to her, and yet they had to talk to each other through little scraps of paper. They were in the middle of class, yes, but it had never stopped them before...Especially not when one knew something was wrong with the other. And she was positive he knew. If even Danny could figure it out, then surely so could Tucker; he was even more knowing that Danny, though he never showed it. He always did try to let things come into light on their own; he was the complete opposite of insistent, especially with his friends. _Tucker wouldn't tell anyone...he'd be concerned, but he would let me do it my way. Danny was just butting in...he would never let me do this the way I want to. But I need to tell SOMEONE. _Tucker must have felt the sudden tension too as Sam's gaze landed on him. Juan now knew about Danny, she was sure of it, even though he didn't even stalk into her room last night, but Tucker? If she could steer clear of him except, I don't know, maybe during lunch, then she could get away with it. She could.

She tapped the erase of her pencil on her cheek, still contemplating. "Ms. Manson." Not a single sound broke her train of thought. "Ms. Manson..." Not even the stares from her classmates could break her out of it. "Ms. Manson!" At this her back straight out so fast she felt as if the sudden jolt could have lifted her out of her seat had she not stopped herself in time. She turned to look at Mr. Lancer, his expression seething and severe.

"Yes...?" Her voice shook.

Lancer brought a hand to his forehead and breathed slowly. A moment later, he brought his hand back down and straightened his posture, staring at Sam and Tucker. "I don't know what exactly is going on between you and Mr. Foley here, but I would appreciate it if you could leave it at the door when you enter my classroom."

Sam nodded and stared at her desk. Tucker blinked. But he hadn't done anything this time! Frowning, he nodded too. Maybe Lancer had noticed him staring at Sam from the door. Geeze, they didn't give the guy enough credit.

From somewhere behind them someone giggled. Tucker lifted his gaze off of Sam and turned a little to look over his shoulder. Paulina and Star were staring at him and Sam, making little hearts with their hands and fluttering their lashes. What? Sam looked at them too. They weren't actually thinking he and Sam...? The girl's shoulders squared off as she leaned on her desk and grimaced at Lancer's back. Maybe they were giving Lancer just enough credit after all.

By the time Tucker turned back in his seat, the slip of paper was back on his desk, folded anew and with slight imprints from a purple pen. Sam's pen. He glanced up at Lancer and then down at it again. If the man caught them again...He sighed. _Danny, you SO owe me big time._

_What you are about to read you can't ever tell anyone. I mean it Tucker, no one. Not even Danny. _

_**Especially **__not Danny..._

There was simply no way he could have ever prepared himself.

* * *

E/N: Okay! So for the news I was talking about. I will be re-vamping the chapters of "I'm Your Boyfriend!" I will not be changing the plot, don't get me wrong, but I I might be adding a lot of details and smoothing it out. I recently re-read a lot of my stories, and boy do 5 years really give a person time to improve their writing abilities! The change will be slow seeing as it's harder for me to re-write and write form the beginning, but t's just a heads up! You don't have to re-read it, either, I just wanted to let you guys know! And for you new reviewers, if you're truly interested, you can go ahead and read it now! Or, you can wait for the "edited" notes to start showing up at the top of the chapters so it will be a bit more well-written than it is now. Up to you!

Thanks for sticking with me guys, it's more than you could ever imagine!


	16. Black and Blue

A/N: You guys have been very patient, I thank you! And every once in awhile I see a notification saying there's a new subscriber! Ah, this makes me feel so good! It's very nice to have people look forward to reading these chapters... :)

Btw, you guys are going to hate me after this chapter. :|

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 16**

**Black and Blue**

* * *

As soon as Danny heard Jazz's farewell, he started to relax. He didn't like having her or anyone else worried about him. It was the one thing he hated most, the one thing he swore to himself he would never do. Never. _Especially_ after he got his ghost powers. Danny Phantom was a hero, a day saver and all that. How would it make sense if _he_ was asking for help? No. These powers were meant to protect those he loved. They couldn't backfire on him, they just couldn't. But somehow, knowing all this wasn't helping at all.

Somehow, even with these powers, these supernatural abilities that had helped him out of almost every tight situation up until now, were of no use. Not only was Jazz worried about him, Sam, the one most important person to him, had completely tuned him out. It was a slap to the face, one he could never go intangible for. Deep inside his heart, he wondered if they would ever be friends again. Was this really it? Was their friendship really over all because of some stupid guy she just met?

What was so great about him anyway? Not only did he give Danny the creeps, there was also nothing really all that special about him. He looked just like a normal kid. Well, he was probably rich, seeing as Sam's parents were the ones that arranged the whole thing, but Sam had never been interested in that. No, there just wasn't anything that came to mind that could possibly attract Sam. He was definitely not Goth and though he looked kind of smart, he didn't strike Danny as a genius. Maybe he was a vegetarian...

Danny shook his head, water flying in every direction from his hair as the shower head continued to drench him in liquid warmth. The sudden movement made him dizzy and combined with the haze already in front of his eyes from the water, the spell almost made him lose his footing. He leaned a hand against the wall, trying to hold himself up until the dizziness wore off. "Maybe...I should...get out of the shower..." he groaned, his head ache acting up. He hadn't taken the medicine yet, maybe he should take those pills while he was at it.

It took every ounce of his energy to turn off the water and get dressed. By the time he made it to his desk where a glass of water sat next to the napkin with the pills on it, he was due to collapse, his whole body trembling from the strain. His heart began to thump wildly in his chest and the warmth from the shower followed him all the way to his bed. He could barely pop the pills into his mouth and had to swallow them without drinking water - the cup felt like a brick in his hand. The room was spinning and the floor whenever he looked at it - he could hardly keep his head up - felt like it was 10 feet away from his face though he knew for a fact he was not that tall.

He fell heavily onto his bed then, feeling as if gravity had doubled in strength. His head hurt like crazy and he could hardly keep oxygen in his lungs. Jazz said his fever was off the charts, maybe every other symptom was also being magnified...

"Danny!" called a voice from downstairs, muddled as if it were coming through water. The front door shut and he could hear the rustling of plastic bags.

Danny panted, mouthing out his mothers name. He wouldn't be surprised if this was what it felt like right before you died. He didn't quite understand why, but he had to scream. He had to shout out his mother's name, anyone's name; he just had to. If he didn't...

"Mo..._(huff, huff)_ mom..." Danny swallowed hard, trying to summon up whatever strength he had left, but his voice was done, all he could croak out was a small "help" as he turned his head to his door. His mother's soft footsteps and face in the doorway made tears well in his eyes. The room turned into a blur of black, blue, and red. He thought he heard his mother scream out his name again, but he wasn't sure.

Then everything went black.

* * *

E/N: Yes, that's really the end of the chapter. I was planning on writing more (maybe pick up from the last chap), but you'll have to wait. :)

I promise I won't take long, though!


	17. Promise

A/N: Sorry this took awhile; took a 3-day trip to visit my boyfriend at college :P

Anyway, here you go!

Ah, and before you read, very, VERY sorry if Tucker sounds OOC. Even when I read it to myself, it sounds more like Danny's talking, not him, but I tried .

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 17**

**Promise**

* * *

Casper High. Same day.

Two class periods later and already half-way through lunch. Tucker was sitting right next to Sam, both with trays of their usual choices of food before them on their usual table. Tucker had gotten over the initial shock of the note, but he still felt an overwhelming feeling of fear and disbelief every time he thought too much about it. The awful silence wasn't making things any better. This entire time Sam hadn't even so much as looked at him let alone spoke. They'd been sitting in silence this whole time; it was making Tucker antsy. He knew what he should say, both as a friend and as a logical human being: tell Danny. Tell the police. Tell _someone_. Well, someone other than _him_, who felt virtually powerless in such a situation.

But he also knew what Sam would say. Everyone knew that Danny had a hero complex; but Sam? Oh boy, she had an even _bigger_ one. Not even _Danny_ could make her give up once she set her mind on things. No; Sam was stronger than that. Sam was stronger than _either_ of them.

Tucker bit his lower lip; but now it was that very same strength that would bring about her fall and in the worst case scenario, her _death_.

His eyes shut at the thought, and a chill ran through his body. They'd been with Danny at just about every ghost attack, and each knew that any one of them could be his last; but they also knew that no matter what, either they would be there to save him, or he would be too much of a big-head to let himself die too easily. But this was a _real_ threat. Ghosts were scary, but in a weird kind of way, _humans_ were _much_ scarier. Even without the aid of otherworldly powers, humans could terrify the crap out of anyone if they set their mind to it. Ghosts...well, sometimes even _they_ had to try hard; take the Box Ghost for example. This guy, this _Juan_ guy, was the real deal; from what Sam said, he was best of his kind, or the worse, depending on how you looked at it. If he can have even Sam terrified, Tucker knew he wouldn't stand a chance. Danny, maybe, but Tuck understood where she was coming from; she would never endanger someone so important to her.

Without realizing it, Tucker had begun to tap his foot on the linoleum floor, deep in thought, eyes still shut. The whole world around him had vanished as he continued the conversation in his head, trying to find a way to make it all work out no matter what, trying to figure out how to stop all of this without anyone getting hurt, trying to save Sam...

Then a warm hand came in contact with his knee. His eyes snapped open, and he blinked, confused and a little dazed from having been rocketed back into reality. He looked at Sam. She wasn't even looking at him, only stared at her tray of food, chewing slowly on the contents currently pushed to one side of her mouth, causing her cheek to bulge a little. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye, or rather, almost did. He knew she was still looking at the table, but it was his side of the table this time. His eyes shifted down to his knee. Sure enough he stopped tapping his foot and smiled apologetically.

"You'll break a hole through the floor," she murmured, having finished chewing her food and swallowed. He knew it was supposed to be funny, but somehow it wasn't. He pushed his tray away from him to make enough room for his elbows as he folded his arms on the table, shoulders brought up, almost touching his ears. Sam blinked, finally realizing the mood - or maybe finally done avoiding it. Her fork made a soft clunk against the tray as she put it down. She sighed. "I know what you're thinking..."

Tucker didn't look at her. He shook his head. "Then why?...Obviously if we're both thinking the same thing, and Danny too, most likely, then it's got to be reasonable..." He shook his head again. "I don't get it...unless you're..." Sam saw him hesitate. She knew what he was thinking now, too. The same thing Danny was...She waited.

A few seconds passed before Tucker gave her an exasperated look from under his beret. "...unless you're _letting_ him?" It hurt to hear the words; it must have hurt to say them too. She pursed her lips, unable to look at him again; she shook her head.

Tucker turned to her all the way now, confusion clear on his face. "If you're not letting him and you're not doing the only logical thing, then what is it, Sam?" His voice was stern but pleading. He wanted to know, but Sam only looked away.

At this, he just about through a fit. He had to resist the urge to toss his tray and all of its contents onto the floor right then and there, no fear of whatever kind of repercussion he would receive. He wanted to know what she was thinking! Maybe she knew what was on his mind, but he sure didn't know what was on hers. Sam could be pretty out there, _crazy_ even, but this was going too far. How could she risk the lives of some strangers and her own _family_. There was a fine line between brave and stupid, and he was afraid she might be crossing it.

"This is your _life_ we're talking about here, Sam!" he hissed, quietly so as to not grab the attention of other students, but firm enough to let her know he was on the brink. She still didn't turn. "What, do you think that guy will suddenly grow a heart and just go home? Sam, you've got to be kidding me! I'm all for peace and love, but after all the stuff we've seen, come on!" Nothing. He grabbed her shoulder, hard. She flinched. "Sam, are you listening to me?" He tightened his grasp, furrowing his brows. "Sam!"

"You're hurting me..."

Her voice was soft, shaky, almost on the verge of tears. As soon as tucker realized what she was saying, he let go. He hadn't squeezed her shoulder that hard... And as much as he would love to believe he'd gotten some muscle mass after all these ghost fights, he knew better; he was a behind the scenes kind of guy on missions, a look-out more than a fighter. He could get through security like alarms and locks, but the actual fighting was all Danny. No, he knew his own strength and enough to hurt Sam was not it.

"Sam, what else did he do to you?"

Upon not hearing an answer Tucker stood up. He tossed his food into the trash then grabbed her tray and did the same, in spite of her weak attempt to stop him. He grabbed the hand that had reached for the tray. Her violet eyes met his, tears springing onto her lashes from her surprise. He didn't need to say anything; she knew to follow him into the hall.

She kept her head down all the while as they walked from their side of the lunchroom to the other. Her hair covered her burning face as different people pointed and whispered about the fact Tucker's hand still held her own. _They're staring..._

Before long they had reached one of the lonelier hallways. Tucker looked this way and that, making sure no one was coming, while she settled herself against the wall between a break in the row of lockers. Seeing no one, he returned to her side. Tucker frowned. He knew he was being a little too rough with her, but he didn't have a choice. If she was going to continue hiding things from him, how could he trust her plan, whatever it was? He took a deep breath, watching as her frail body started to shake a little and tears began to stream down her face. "Sam..."

She sniffled, wiping the tears away. "Deja vu," she laughed, remembering how she had broken down in front of Danny. But this felt more comfortable. Tucker, though a different person now from what she knew him to be usually, wasn't like Danny. Though she liked the ghost child - a lot - being in the presence of Tucker felt more comfortable, more free.

Tucker lifted her chin, his touch ginger, until her eyes met his. Carefully, he brushed away some locks of hair from her face and wiped away the remnants of her tears. "Sam, what else did Juan do to you?"

From the look in her eyes, he should have expected what came next, but just like the note, he couldn't have prepared himself. Her shirt that day had a very wide collar, wide enough so she could pull one side down, uncovering the shoulder Tucker had grasped. Though the bruise had begun to yellow around the outside, the center was still an ugly blue-black, like ink against her otherwise pale flesh. He gasped, his mouth agape.

"Sam, how...?"

She pulled her shirt back into place, shaking her head. "Bad day, lots of alcohol, you know..." She tried her best to laugh it off, but it came out with a tremble in her voice and the corners of her mouth, instead of pulling upward, pulled down. Before she knew it, before the tears could begin anew, Tucker had wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, wishing with all his strength that he could be Danny right then because though he knew this would comfort her greatly, it wouldn't be enough. He pulled away, still holding onto her shoulders softly, but making sure she was looking at him before he continued. "But just make it work," he pleaded, watching as she wiped away her tears and stared at him. "Just make whatever plan you have up your sleeve work. Because if you end up hurt..." He shook his head, unable to continue let alone even imagine how insane the ghost kid would be if anything happened to her.

Sam nodded slowly, pursing her lips. This was permission. This was the freedom she wanted. Yes, this was what she needed; now, she was ready.

Immediately Tucker saw the difference in her eyes. The strength returned, but it wasn't raw like before. This time she had confidence. _Danny, she needed _you _to say this..._

"Thanks, Tucker," she said, taking a deep breathe and putting on a real smile.

Tucker nodded, then hesitated a moment before saying, "But Sam...you have to promise me something."

Her breath caught in her throat, fully aware of what he was going to say next. She sighed. Her gaze fell to the ground, and she leaned her body against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself. "I destroyed him, Tucker, Danny won't ever forgive me for what I did to him..."

Her voice was soft, regretful. Tucker didn't know what to say...what could he? He wasn't even entirely sure what she was talking about. He sighed, willing the words to come to him so he could comfort her. Imagine believing that the one most important person to you never wanted to see your face again.

"He _hates_ me…"

"No," he murmured, almost pleading again. "You and I both know, Danny, Sam, he can't hate you; no matter what." He bit his lip. "Look, Sam, I'm not sure what happened between you two, but I do know one thing for sure…He's suffering right now just as much as you. So..." He hesitated again. "If at any point, you feel it's too much for you, or if I think it's going too far…We have to tell him." Sam's jaw dropped a little; she gawked at him.

No! She couldn't...

As if on cue, the bell rang, signaling the end of their lunch period. Slowly, the hall began to fill with students rushing to class. Both teens looked around. Sam tried to get past Tucker, but the boy stopped her, blocking her way with his arm. He gave her a hard look which she tried to avoid. "Sam, promise?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, but she nodded. Relief flooded Tucker's system to the point where he didn't even notice a strong hand shove him forward until he was toppling into Sam's equally unexpecting figure.

* * *

E/N: I hope it was okay!

And I'm pretty sure we all know who's responsible at the end :|


	18. Humiliation

A/N: So sorry this took so long! I recently got a job (full-time on some days, part-time on others) and I've got a lot of orders coming in on etsy (dangos is the name of my shop if anyone's wondering :D), so this whole week has been pretty hectic (and will continue being so until this weekend if all goes well). SO! Here is your long-awaited chapter! :)

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 18**

**Humiliation**

* * *

By the time Tucker could come to terms with what was happening, it was too late. He had fallen forward into Sam, pushing her into the wall to the point where his face was a mere centimeter from hers and their chests were touching. All he recalled was the thud from her back crashing into the wall, surprised by his weight, and a grunt from the fact her shoulder had been victimized as well. Shock covered both their faces, pain covered Sam's. It had taken everything in her power to keep them both from collapsing onto the floor, the rubber beneath her boots her greatest ally. But the pain emanating from her shoulder almost crippled her. Who knew a bruise could hurt so much? Maybe she was more damaged than she originally thought.

Through eyes squinted with pain she stared at the gawking and giggling perpetrators before her.

"Look, guys! Geek's got game!" shouted the annoying nasal voice. The blonde jock laughed at his own remark. Beside him, Paulina and Star laughed behind their hands, eyeing the two teenagers with smugness.

"Fenterd's not gonna like this!" snickered another one of the jocks, slipping his cell phone out and taking a picture just a Tucker had turned to glare. It turned out to be more like fear than anger. He wasn't afraid of Danny; he knew his best friend would know this was all some badly played out joke, but this was certainly not going to help Sam.

"Go find another nerd to bug, Dash," he growled. He saw the smirk on Dash's face turn upside down, but that was the least of his worries. Tucker turned back to Sam, having pushed himself off her, concerned. "You okay?" he asked quietly, trying to help her steady herself on her feet. She gave him a weak smile, almost apologetic. Then her eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder. Tucker's blood ran cold when two big hands grabbed his shoulders.

"Hey, Foley," Dash hissed, tightening his grip. Tucked winced a little, body frozen in place, wishing with every fiber of his being to be as brave as he had been just a second ago. "If you're so worried about your new girlfriend, why don't you go ahead and show us how much you care?"

What? What could he possibly mean by that?

Dash shoved Tucker towards the guy that had taken the picture, causing his to lose his balance just long enough for the brawny jock to grab hold of both his arms and yank them behind his back painfully. Tucker cried out, catching the attention of some of the students making their way to their classes. Whispers erupted around them. Tucker gritted his teeth. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Shut it, geek face." Dash murmured, fixing his eyes on the raven haired girl before him, cornered between the break in the wall of lockers. Sam couldn't find her voice. She had just been about to say something witty to the blonde jock, to try to turn the tables, but suddenly her eyes met with those of the people around them and fear gripped her body, holding it in place. She willed herself to move, to brush away the stares, and she almost succeeded. She made a move for Tucker, but was suddenly held back. Somehow Paulina and Star had maneuvered their way behind her, weaving their arms around both of hers. Alone neither was strong enough to hold Sam down, but together, they made for a powerful team.

No matter how much she tugged at her arms, trying to work them free, to no avail. She glared at the two girls holding her arms; they smirked at right back at her. "Scared, loser?" Paulina whispered, bringing her lips close to her ear. Sam wrenched her face away; Paulina laughed, Star joined her.

A shadow came over her, a big, bulky shadow. She closed her eyes, knowing it was Dash, expecting a punch to the gut or something like that; though she knew Dash better. Despite all his big talk, he'd never hit a girl, loser or not. Maybe he'd stuff her in a locker, throw her in a trashcan, but never actually hit her. No, this was going to be much worse. And the whispers weren't helping.

Before long, she felt his hand on her chin, bringing her face up. "Open your eyes, it's not much fun if your eyes are closed," he sneered. Sam kept her eyes closed. She refused to look at him; refused even more to look at the crowd that had gathered, like a hungry pack of hyenas, waiting for her humiliation.

"Let her go!" Tucker shouted, still struggling with the other jock who had passed his phone to someone else so they could film. Said jock pulled his arms a little tighter, Tucker grunted. Where was a teacher when you needed one? Any second now the strain on his arms would certainly pull them right out of their sockets; he was almost afraid to move.

"If you don't shut up, I'll make you," Dash said darkly, one hand still on Sam's face, the other now holding the collar of Tucker's shirt. Tucker stared at him, willing him to do something. Dash's eyes never left Tucker's, not even when he muttered, "Punch him."

He let go of his shirt the moment Tucker's eyes widened with realization. The last thing he saw was Dash's red jacket-clad back; the next thing was the locker he slammed into after a fist collided with the left side of his face, sending daggers of pain to shoot into the area as well as the warmth of blood. He yelped. Onlookers also screamed; whether for more bloodshed or in terror was for anyone's guess.

At the sound of his body falling into the lockers and his cry, Sam's eyes snapped opened as well. She only had enough time to watch as her was pummeled a couple more times before being left sitting against the wall, nose bloodied, eye swollen and blue against his already dark skin. "Tuck-" she started, but had her face pulled back to face Dash as the bully smirked at her. Tears welled in her eyes. "Poor goth-geek," he cooed. "I'll make it all better..." He tightened his grasp around her face; her heart sank lower than ever before realization struck. She knew what was about to happen. "Make sure Foley is watching," Dash sneered, and pulled Sam towards him, Paulina and Star letting go of her arms. Sam heard Paulina humph, probably having expected something more painful.

To Sam, though, he couldn't have done any worse. Juan was strong, but Dash was a football player. His one arm around her body, keeping her locked against his own was enough to render her motionless. His other hand was behind her head, a fistful of black hair held tightly, keeping her from turning away as his lips pressed against her own.

The tears fell freely now. She tried to spit, hoping that he'd pull away in disgust, but it backfired.

Instead, he took it as permission and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her eyes couldn't get any wider as he pushed her face closer to his own, wrestling their tongues, spittle, whether his or hers didn't matter, crawling down the side of her mouth, making her stomach do flips, her having to try hard not to vomit; though that certainly would have gotten him to stop. She even contemplated biting down as hard she could, but couldn't summon up the energy, feeling more and more drained as her humiliation continued. Around her she could hear people cooing, whispering, some laughing. This couldn't get any worse...

Her body had been tensed the entire time, subtly fighting against Dash's strong hold, but she had reached her limit. Slowly, as fresh tears brimmed her eyes, she gave up. Her body loosened, her shoulders slumped, she closed her eyes. Dash pulled away for a second, grinned at the girl, murmured something about her being a good kisser, then pushed her against the wall and continued, exploring.

Time crept by slowly, she could hear her name being called as Tucker managed to crawl towards Dash and tried to pull at his leg. She wasn't sure, but she felt Dash pause and kick out. Another yelp from her best friend confirmed her guess.

_Make it stop, make it stop...please..._

How had the bell not rung yet? Or had it and everyone was so hooked on the spectacle that they dared not move?

_Disgusting...disgusting..._

"Mr. Baxter, by the love of _Beloved_, unhand Ms. Manson this instant!"

_Stop him please..._

"Mr. BAXTER!"

Sam's eyes snapped open; Dash pulled away. He let go of her for the most part, but he still kept one arm around her. She hadn't realized it, but she'd been holding her breath the entire time. Suddenly being able to take in oxygen made her feel dizzy; she couldn't move, fearful of falling flat on her face in front of everyone. Upon looking around though, she realized only Lancer and the jocks hiding Tucker so Lancer wouldn't see the fallen student, and Paulina and Star were there. Had the bell rung and she just not heard it? "Oh, Mr. Lancer!" Dash said coolly. Sam looked at the teen. He wiped the drool from his mouth confidently. "Sorry about that; Sam's my new girlfriend and I just couldn't help myself!"

What? What was he talking about? New girlfriend? Could Lancer not see that he was lying? Why would she ever go out with _him_? Did he not see how they left Tucker?

She snapped to attention, turning her head towards where her friend was last. But she could barely see him behind the legs of the jocks, Star, and Paulina. She looked back at Lancer. He seemed to be contemplating something, but then sighed and shook his head. "I'm in no mood to hear about your love adventures, Baxter. Get to class, all of you." With that, the balding teacher walked away. Sam gawked at him. How...how could he do that? How could he just walk away. She looked at Dash, the boy sneered at her, then pushed her down so she fell against the lockers; she winced.

"See ya, around, Sam," he said darkly. Paulina glared at her, and Star smiled as they followed behind him. Sam brought a hand up to her chin, wiped away the drying spit with another flip of her stomach. The other jocks had picked up Tucker and now tossed him to her with a chuckle. He fell heavily with a moan as the cold ground came into contact with his swollen, bloodied face.

"Tucker!" she murmured, crawling towards him and trying to pull him up onto her lap. The blood didn't bother her; he was her friend and she was concerned and guilty. He looked terrible. His glasses were nowhere to be seen, probably somewhere on the floor, smashed to bits by the feet of the students who had at one time been there. Tucker sighed, trying to open his one good eye.

"Sorry...I couldn't help..." he said through gritted teeth. It hurt to move his jaws, his gums sore from trying to keep his teeth in place. "Damn him..."

"Let's go to the Nurse's office," Sam said quietly, trying to pull him up as she stood. It took quite a bit of effort, but she managed to work his arm over her shoulders. He could barely walk and was mostly dead weight, but she could hold him.

Tucker shook his head. "I'm fine, I just need an ice pack..." He cringed a little as they started to walk, holding his stomach. Sam frowned.

"Tucker, you can't even walk, what if they broke something?"

He shook his head again, but said nothing. He had just watched as they violated her in a way she had been mistreated for these past few days. She must be in more emotional distress than he was in physical pain. And even more so, he still hated the doctor's, even the nurse's office. And in this condition, there was no doubt they'd try to send him to the hospital and then how would he help Sam for the rest of the day in case Dash tried something again?

Sam watched him closely, then sighed. She couldn't force him, though she knew it was going against her better judgment. He for sure couldn't go to class like this, though. Maybe they could leave and if they went to his house, she could help patch him up herself. She chewed her lower lip as, somehow, they ended up heading towards the door.

She couldn't get rid of Dash's taste in her mouth. IT made her gag every time she thought about it, so she chose not to. Besides, she was already having a hard time keeping her mind in check. As it was she was losing the bright side. She was a rights activist, a recylo-vegetarian, so naturally she already thought humanity was a little evil. But this...How could people be so cruel? Not only did Dash force himself upon her with no other intention than to humiliate and torture her, but so many of her supposed classmates stood around and watched. Even worse, they did nothing to stop them as they crashed down into Tucker. He was lucky to be able to hold himself up. His face was swelling, he could hardly open his left eye. His lip was broken and his nose was bleeding. Blood stained his shirt where she attempted to wipe away most of it. And the way he held his middle suggested he may have one or two broken ribs. Truly _someone_ could have lent a hand or at least got away to call a teacher... And Lancer. He _knew_ she would not _ever _so much as consider going out with Dash. He knew she liked Danny, everyone did, no doubt, by now, but yet he bought the story. He wasn't like the other teachers who let the jocks do as they pleased; but then why? or did he really think it was possible for her to like him? Or maybe it was the fact she didn't fight back.

_Yes, it was my fault...I should have said something...I'm just a toy, just a stupid toy without a stupid reason to be here but to entertain them._

She shook her head. No, she couldn't think that way. She had more important things to worry about. There was no time for self-pity. What's done is done and all she could do was prepare for next time. If there even was one.

Tucker watched his friend through his one good eye. He didn't know what she might be thinking. He just hoped it wasn't too terrible... What more could life possibly throw at her at this point? Things couldn't possibly get any worse...

"Sam! Tucker!"

Both teens blinked. Sam looked over her shoulder at the person who had called out their names. From clear across the hall, Jazz was waving at them. She looked visibly pale despite the fact she was running, and out of breath. She hadn't looked this disheveled since they thought the Mr. and Mrs. Fenton were getting a divorce.

"Hey, Jazz," Sam mumbled as the ginger came to a stop in front of them, doubled over, panting. "What's going on?"

Jazz shook her head. "I...looked everywhere...for you guys...I need to tell you…something..." She wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand and looked at them. Her exhausted expression suddenly turned into shock; she gasped. "What...What happened!"

Sam and Tucker looked at each other, then at the ground. Tucker tried to smile, Sam avoided eye contact. "Dash," Tucker murmured. He didn't say any more about it. For sure Sam did not want to talk about what the jock had done to her; she would do anything to hide her humiliation. So he said nothing.

"We need to get you to a doctor, can you walk?" Jazz said hurriedly. Tucker had been about to reply, fear in his eyes at the sound of the word doctor, when she suddenly shook her head and put her hands on the sides of her face, remembering something. "Wait! No, I mean yes, but...Danny's sick!"

Sick? Yes, Tucker knew that. She had told him just that morning that he wasn't feeling well. That's why he wasn't at school today. He cocked an eyebrow at her. Why was she so worried then?

"Is that why he's not at school today?" Sam said quietly, almost relieved. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought maybe he was just avoiding her. Jazz shook her head again.

"Not _just_ sick...he...well, mom called the office and asked for me to leave early so I could take of Danny and her and Dad could figure out what to do...they said something about a kind of ecto-flu..." Yes, now that they looked closely, she had all her books and her bag with her. But...what was an ecto-flu? Sam blinked, watching Jazz tremble as she fought back tears. Ecto-flu...

"But, isn't Danny...only half ghost?" Tucker mused, almost to himself, wincing against the pain in his jaw again. Sam furrowed her eyebrows. She looked at Jazz now with a fierce expression.

"Jazz," she said. The girl looked at her, her blue eyes glazed over. She bit down on her lip, trying not to sob. "Jazz, _how sick is Danny?_"

The dam broke.

"Mom and Dad said that…if they can't find out how to get the virus out of him..."

She closed her eyes, trying with all her might to fight back the sobs building up in her throat. She hiccupped, unable to continue.

"Jazz!"

"He could die..."

* * *

E/N: Uhm, yeah. BAIIII :D

Thanks for staying with me, guys 3

Remember, I read each and every review and always try to reply to questions! :)

And even if you don't review, I'm a junkie when it comes to checking my traffic stats, so I KNOW YOU'RE THERE.

I LOVE YOU GUYS.


	19. S3ns3&L0y4lty

A/N: I debated and debated and debated even more about whether or not I should put up this chapter yet and sure enough, here it is! I know it's super short and you guys have been waiting for a long time, and for that I am sorry, but I hope you do like this chapter. Next chapter, I promise we'll see more of our ghostly hero!

* * *

**High Tension: Who am I Really?**

**Chapter 19**

**S3ns3&L0y4lty**

* * *

The moment the words crossed Jazz's lips was the same moment the sky seemed to fall, hell froze over, and pigs flew. Nothing made sense. It simply couldn't. Danny couldn't die. He couldn't. Just the other day there he was, worried about Sam, a little angry - a lot angry - but alive. He was alive, perfectly well. He can't die. No, it doesn't make sense. The words, those words, they could never be used in the same sentence. No, it wasn't correct, no.

Jazz sniffled and wiped the tears brimming her eyes. She shook her head again. "No, but, he can't...he's not..." she didn't know what to say. "Mom told me that there's still...a chance..."

Tucker was the first of the two to come back to reality. "We have to go see him," he murmured. He suddenly felt a lot lighter, but Sam didn't notice. The news that his friend could be dying had caused his blood to circulate adrenaline throughout his entire system. The pain lessened, and he could manage a shuffle. It felt as if Danny was caught in the heat of battle and the only thing between him losing or winning was them. They couldn't let him down. "I can help...Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. I can help them research, anything..."

Jazz nodded slowly, though frantically. She could barely contain herself. Her heart was just about ready to jump out of her chest, a cry was bubbling in her throat, her knees shook. All she wanted to do was let her knees buckle and spill tears onto the floor. She hated feeling helpless.

"You go ahead, we'll slow you down."

Jazz turned on her heel and started for the door, not waiting for a second command. Tucker watched her vanish beyond the door. The hall was absolutely silent except for the ragged breathing from the person next to him. Sam's eyes were still glued to the spot where Jazz had been standing as she delivered the news. It was as if she had said Danny had already died. He could practically feel her heartbeat. Sweat rolled down the side of her face, her cheeks were red, her whole body was trembling; she felt insanely _cold_.

"Sam," Tucker murmured. He couldn't tell if she was listening. He tried to tug her forward with what little strength he had left. She didn't budge, instead brought her chin down until it almost touched her chest and bared her teeth, trying to hold back tears. Her hands turned to fists. Tucker sighed, looking towards the door. "Even if you _do_ think he hates you, could you really live with yourself if...if you weren't even there...when he died?"

Her eyes opened, the tears rolled down her face to her chin. "He's not dead yet, Sam," Tucker murmured. The words hurt to be said. How could Danny ever die from something like a flu? Go out heroically, meaningfully, then maybe it would be easier to handle...but to have him snatched away like this? No, they couldn't let that happen. He wasn't gone yet; they wouldn't let him.

She knew this just as well as he did. More than anything, Danny needed them right then. He needed them more than ever before. But... "What if...what if he doesn't want me there?"

Tucker frowned. The misery in her voice was obvious. There was absolutely no way he could miss it; the sound of a regret so powerful, it could make her shatter with a single wrong word. "...and what if he does...?" She didnt move, only sniffled and wiped away her tears. He shook his head, tugging on her body again. "Come on, Sam! You're his friend, whether he knew it last night or not. This Juan kid can't take that away from you, no matter how hard he tries. Danny's pig-headed...but he knows where his loyalties lie. Do you?"

Gradually, Sam had stopped trembling. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, then let it go. She wasn't going to let this break her down. Danny was going to get better and she was going to defeat Juan and the story would end happily. Yes.

"Thanks, Tuck..."

Tucker laughed. "You both seem to be saying that to me a lot these days."

She smiled at him, then they both shuffled out the door and towards Danny's house.

* * *

E/N: Here we go!

What happens in the next chapter could very well determine the ending of the story, oh mai, the pressure is on!

Will Danny reject Sam...?


	20. Empathy

A/N: Hey guys! So sorry this chapter took sooooo long to put up...I've been working on it ever slowly and here it is! It's a lot longer than the other chapters, but clearly still not long enough to make up for the extremely long wait :(

However, I hope you all understand. Classes started and I'm going to be working slowly. I'll try to make the chapters longer though to make up for it :)

Thanks guys!

* * *

**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter 20**

**Empathy**

* * *

It took Sam and Tucker almost half an hour to walk all the way to Danny's house. The ghost-kid didn't live very far, but scuttling wasn't entirely the most efficient way to travel. Half-way Tucker regained enough composure to be able to walk on his own, but the pain in his face (and the swelling) seemed to grow worse. He wouldn't be surprised if the Fentons decided to quarantine him along with Danny when they finally got there.

"Can you climb the steps?" Sam murmured as they reached the overly tall house due to the OP center sitting on the roof. Tucker nodded. Walking was hard enough, but lifting his feet up a few inches couldn't be much harder. At least, he hoped not. Still, he reached out for Sam's shoulder just in case.

Sam reached for the doorbell and hesitated. This was it. Some time within the next few minutes, her fate would be decided. Either Danny would shoo her away and pretend she never existed - or worse, pretend she was dead to him - or let her in and forgive her. No, simply letting her in would be enough. Maybe they could never be friends again, but it would be enough to just not be shunned. If she became the ghost, that would be much worse…

Tucker watched her linger. She had done well up until this point. She hadn't wavered and never once pause to wonder again if things would turn out well. He had tried to lift her spirits by telling her that there's a very good chance Danny would forgive her - he loved her, after all, though of course only he and the rest of the school knew it - but what if he was wrong? Sure, Tucker had been rejected and punched by plenty of girls, but he'd never actually had his heart broken. Whatever happened between Danny and Sam must have gotten pretty close to that, from what little he could get out of her. Betrayal, she had said, but that was all. Just the word alone, muttered with the utmost self-disgust, portrayed every emotion from that moment in time he was still in the dark about. If Danny didn't forgive her…

He didn't even want to think about.

Then Sam took a deep breath, eyes closed, and let it out. She opened her eyes again, an indescribable fury held within the amethyst orbs, and Moved her hand forward to ring the door bell.

To their surprise, however, the door opened before she had a chance to push the button. Tucker almost fell backwards as Sam jumped, shaking his hand off the shoulder he was using for support. Sam turned just in time to catch him though, saving him from another bout of pain. "Whoa!" she murmured, and sighed once Tucker regained his balance. _Well, not sure how to feel about this…summed up all my courage, and the door opens on its own. What?_

"You guys got here!" said a voice. Sam and Tucker turned to look at Jazz, then blinked. She hair was up in a ponytail with locks falling out. Near her hair line, sweat wet the roots of her ginger hair. Her cheeks were red and the under arms of her black spaghetti strap shirt were wet too. Yet, she let off an unmistakably sweet scent, evident upon embracing the two teens on her doorstep. "I'm so glad!" She released them, a smile on her face as she tugged subconsciously at the face mask around her neck. But her eyes looked weary. In just half an hour, it seemed she had aged. Then again, she had looked pretty bad before too.

"Why are you…?" Sam started, then Jazz's jaw dropped.

"Oh my gosh! Sorry, do I smell bad?" All of a sudden she seemed completely disgusted with herself. Sam and Tucker shook their heads. She sighed. "Danny's disease has a weird side-effect. His temperature was at all time high this morning, but now it's at an all time low…Mom and dad turned up the heat in the basement to try to get him warmed up. I was just about to go outside to get some fresh air. It gets pretty humid down there, so they moved all their stuff to kitchen and can't keep an eye on him. Right now we switched shifts so I could take a break."

Sam and Tucker listened to her explanation. Weird. Well, not really. Danny had ice powers, so it would kind of make sense why his body was chilling down - it had happened before when he was just discovering those powers - but the only reason he had been so cold _then_ was because he couldn't figure out how to release the icy energy from his body. What was this illness doing to him, really? She contemplated this in silence as Jazz continued to take in the cool breeze. Then she sighed. "Mom and dad said not to let anyone else down there, but…do you guys want to see him?"

Sam almost visibly flinched. She had been completely ready to do this before she rang the doorbell, but somehow the pause in the middle between having the door opened and now actually going down to see him was once again nerve-racking. Could she really do it? "Yes."

Jazz nodded and moved aside so they could walk past her. "I'll let mom and dad know you're here and then get the suits from the OP center. For now, you can sit down and enjoy the temperature…" Sam managed a smile and Tucker chuckled a little. A minute or two later, Jazz came back, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton in suit. "Hey, kids," Mrs. Fenton said, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. Apparently the kitchen had received a bit of a temperature boost as well. Jack said nothing, only grinned a little and waved. Both, though, looked immensely tired, just like Jazz. This was not only taking a toll on Danny, it was definitely taking a toll on them too. Mrs. Fenton even looked like she had been crying.

Jazz murmured that she'd be right back, and Sam stood up from the couch she and Tucker had sat down on to greet the Fentons. Tucker, though, found himself without enough energy to even attempt to stand. "Hi," Sam said quietly. "How's…Danny?" She was almost afraid to ask, not wanting to spark any kind of emotional reaction. Maddie and Jack shared a glance, and then looked away.

"Danny is…well, he'll pull through," Maddie said, trying to smile. "He's a strong boy!" said Jack, but even _his_ smile was short-lived, him adding with a note of - what was it? tired hope? desperation? pride…? -, "He's fighting…"

There was an awkward moment of silence and then Maddie turned to look at Tucker. Something changed about her face just then, then she ran to Tucker's side and muttered, "Oh my goodness, what happened to you!"

Tucker tried to laugh, but it came out a little choked. What was that? Sam wondered. It looked…very familiar. "He got…in a fight," Sam said. She didn't want to let on the fact that he was protecting her from Dash. She didn't even want to think about it, actually. Tucker got hurt because she was being weak, how wonderful. Just what she needed…

"And you walked all the way here!" Maddie gasped, she shook her head, assessing the damage. "Jack, can you get me the first aid kit from the lab?"

Jack nodded, then started for the lab, slowly. Maddie took note and sighed. "Actually, Sam, could you be a dear? It's okay, Jack…" Unlike her, Jack hadn't been taking to the whole situation very well. It was if his whole heart had suddenly crumbled and now the only energy he had left was either used up breathing and lugging his big body around or performing experiment after failing experiment on samples of Danny's blood. He just didn't have Maddie's will, stubborn as he may be when it comes to hunting ghosts. Well, this is what Sam could figure, anyway. She knew the Fentons well, but she wondering if maybe there was another reason why Jack felt so down. As reasonable as her hypothesis was, she simply couldn't fathom how this man's great, boisterous attitude could be taken down completely in a matter of a few hours. She nodded.

"Thank you, dear, it's in the farthest cabinet to the right, the only one that's…clean, I guess. You can miss it."

Sam nodded again, then made her way to the door in the kitchen. She knew why it was closed. The heat from inside, seeping through the cracks around the door, made itself evident as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. She sighed. She could hear Maddie mumbling something as she checked out Tucker's wound; she could even hear tiny replies of pain coming from her friend.

Her hand reached for the warm door knob, then paused for a second. On the kitchen table were test tubes, gloves, jackets, face masks, microscopes, and various little pieces of equipment like pipets, syringes, and glass rods and beakers. No doubt the liquids inside those beakers were various mixes of chemicals, mixed and mismatched in hopes of creating some sort of cure. Sam could even swear that a couple of them were glowing, no doubt due to any form of ectoplasm held within the solution.

She turned back to the door. Maddie had sent her to get the first-aid kit, that's all. She just needed to go in and out. Danny might even be asleep, so what did she have to worry about? It almost hadn't donned on her before that the only reason she was here was because Tucker had talked her out of her rut back at Casper High. Otherwise, she'd probably be in her room, forever wondering what her and Danny's friendship would end up as by the end of this whole ordeal. But now, here was the moment of truth. If Danny was awake, then she'd find out exactly how he felt right now. As much as she wished Tucker could be by her side, she also couldn't help but feel that it would be better if she and Danny were alone. That way neither would have to hide anything from each other; they wouldn't be afraid to say out loud everything that was on their minds.

She took a deep breath and put her hand around the door knob. _This is it._

With one twist, the door opened. Immediately, a gush of warm air pushed her hair backwards and mad her skin feel tingly. The Lab looked just as it always had, except for a couple of new machines that looked a lot like a heart monitor and IV as well as a hospital bed with a body on it, a bunch of blankets covering the shivering, curled up form, a vain attempt to warm him up. She gulped.

Danny seemed to be asleep, but she wasn't sure. He had his back turned to her. From what she could tell, he was simply shivering, not moving in any other way, or even speaking.

She stood there for a little bit, waiting to see if he gave off any other reaction to hearing someone come into the room. When nothing happened, she almost let out a sigh of relief. Yes, at least now she wouldn't have to deal with her supposed "moment of truth," but she was just leaving it for later, which isn't too much better. Shaking her head, she looked back up and around the lab, searching for the cabinet that held the first-aid kit. She almost giggled when she realized what Maddie had meant by "clean." The lab itself had about four cabinets, two on each side of the portal. The "cleanest" one referred to the only one that didn't have some form of ghostly glow on it, the glow produced by none other than glow-in-the-dark stickers of various ghosts of different shapes and sizes, alight in the slightly darkened section of the lab; the lab itself was only dimly lit, probably so that Danny could try to sleep. Unfortunately, said ghost stickers had streaks of black and brown from the damaged metal of the cabinets. Apparently someone had decided to use them as targets. Sam figured Maddie must have drawn the line at the cabinet with medical supplies in it.

She started her way across the room to said cabinet, careful not to make too much noise. Once there, she looked back at Danny. She stilled couldn't see his face too clearly, she realized, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead. He had pulled the blanket high up so that it covered almost half of his face. The half she could see, mainly his eyes and nose, made for a distorted image. He was clearly in some sort of pain, his brows furrowed downward in the middle and his eyes visible shut tight. She could even hear him grinding his teeth every once in awhile, the sound more apparent now that she was on this side of the room. She sighed, turning back to the cabinet, and opened the door. As she moved some of the stuff inside around - towels, tape, bottles of water, and other emergency items - she wondered if there was anything she could do to make Danny feel better. She was no scientist or doctor and really didn't know what was even wrong with him, but if only there was something she could do for him, she'd do it, for sure. Finally, her hand came in contact with the white first-aid box with a red cross on it. She grabbed the small handle and pulled it out, opening it to make sure it had everything Maddie would need as she walked back towards the stairs.

"Gauze, peroxide, tape…" she murmured as she went.

"Sam."

"Hm?" she mumbled, still walking and wiping more sweat from her brow, then she froze. From behind her - she was only a few feet from the stairs that led up to the kitchen - she heard the slight rustle of sheets and fabric and the creaking of the cot as the once curled up, shivering form sat up.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was soft, barely audibly, and made her skin crawl the way it sounded raspy and dry. If one were to take a guess about his condition just by hearing his voice, though, it'd be impossible to tell that he was sick. The only piece of information she could gather from his otherwise clear, dry voice was that he was either in dire need of water, or was very upset in some way. Upon turning and gazing at his downcast face, she ruled out the former. Not a single bead of sweat lined his brow. It was as if they were in a room that was a mere 70 degrees, not 110, from what the thermostat where the doorway said when she came in.

Sam wanted to speak, to say something, explain, apologize, anything, but the words wouldn't come, only her lips parted stupidly.

Danny wasn't even looking at her. He was sitting up on the cot, slightly hunched over, hands neatly folded on his blanketed lap, hair hanging over his pale face, hiding his eyes. He didn't move, didn't even look like he was fully awake; Sam wondered vaguely if maybe he was sleep talking. But then, how would he know it was her there?

"Well?" he growled suddenly, startling her. She hadn't realized that her hands had been trembling. The sudden jolt from the sound of his voice made her drop the box in her hand, the tiny items inside scattering as it hit the floor and simultaneously opened.

"Sorry, I was just…" she started, a knot in her throat. _Goddammit, Sam! Pull yourself together!_ Her breathing started to speed as quickly as her thoughts spun; her knees nearly buckled beneath her and she felt like she was about to throw up. "I was just…Tucker and I came…Jazz told us you were sick, I…"

She took a deep breath. She had come this far, but she was screwing everything up! _God, why can't you get anything right? _she chastised. Her hands clenched into fists at her side and her shoulders pulled up as she tried her hardest not to cry.

"If all you came here to do was mumble, then just go home, Sam, just go home to…to _him_," Danny whispered. It hurt to say it, just as much as it hurt the night before, but this was it. This was her last chance to ask him for help, her last chance to prove to him that this wasn't what she really wanted…

Silence.

A minute or two went by, all he could hear was quiet sniffling. He sighed silently. It was true. How could he have been so blind? He had seen the evidence with his own two eyes, and now he understood quite clearly that this was what she wanted. He had tried to pull her away, bring her with him, to safety, but she fought back, fought back in a way that could only mean that this was what she wanted. Last night he thought maybe it was just her being stubborn, but now, now he was sure he understood. He had endeavored to be even more stubborn than her, but now he understood that it was time to give up. The Sam that he knew was gone. Who would have known…

He was completely done worrying about her.

"Danny…" she finally pleaded, voice on the verge of breaking and tears brimming her eyes.

The ghost boy simply brought a hand up to his hair, brushed a few locks away and sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I just can't do this any more Sam. Juan's waiting for you, just go."

"But…"

"GO, Sam!"

She wanted to run to him, plead, beg for him to forgive her, to not let it end this way, to give her another chance, to tell him that she was doing this all to protect _him_. But before she could say another word, he laid back down on the cot, his back turned to her, and pulled the sheets over his head.

"I don't want to see you again…" he whispered. Sam started to sob, fighting with all her might to stop the tears in their tracks, wiping them furiously, to no avail.

"Sam, I brought the masks. Did you find the first-aid kit?" Came a voice from above the stairs, muffled by the door. It was Jazz.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured at least, sniffling. The door opened and light flooded her.

"Sam?" Jazz asked, concerned. Even from above the stairs, she could see the bandages and little bottles and swabs from inside the first-aid kit scattered around the floor before the Goth girl. Was she hurt? Before she could said another word, though, Sam ran past her and into the kitchen. Jazz looked after her, shocked. "Sam!" she called out again, louder this time. She heard her mom and dad try to ask Sam what happened, but their only answer was the sound of the front door opening and closing and Tucker trying to get up to go after her. Jazz heard the door open again a few minutes later. So, Maddie and Jack couldn't stop him.

"Danny…" Jazz murmured, turning back to her little brother; it didn't even look like he had budged since she went for a break earlier. Judging from the fact he didn't reply to her, she guessed he was just going to ignore her for now. Slowly, she began to pick up the items on the floor and the box they belonged in, placing them carefully so that everything would fit again. When she was done, she stood and started back up towards the door, glancing at Danny just one more time before she walked out. He curled up a little tighter, aware of the fact that she was getting further away.

If there's one thing that her mom and dad had somewhat figure out, it was the fact that the illness and heightened his "sixth sense," as they put it. For some reason, it made his perception of the energy floating around a whole lot more acute. To Jazz, who knew about his ghost powers, it basically meant that his ghost sense was currently extremely sensitive even to the energy in humans. Believe it or not, humans do have ectoplasmic energy too. That saying, that every day you die a little more? Well, it's true. Except, it's in the form of the amount of ectoplasmic energy you have flowing through you. The only odd thing, though, was that Danny was also aware of something else: emotions. Funny thing about ghosts, one of the reasons they don't constantly wage war on each other the way humans do is because they have a strong sense of empathy. In other words, they can actually _feel_ what each other is feeling. For this same reason, though, they also don't like working together too often and live alone in their lairs, the floating doors in the Ghost Zone. These lairs block out the waves from the other ghosts and allow the resident to think calmly. Danny, unfortunately, doesn't live in a lair. So he has to deal with all of these emotions, especially the ones of despair that his family was feeling, especially mom and dad. And now, apparently, he had also felt Sam's.

Jazz sighed. Whatever just happened, Danny felt whatever Sam was feeling too. She turned back towards the door, opened it, and stepped out. Just as she was about to close it again, her hypothesis was confirmed by the soft sobbing from underneath the sheets down below.

-Moments before-

As soon as Tucker heard Jazz call out Sam's name and saw Sam run out of the kitchen, his heart sank. Danny must have woken up and seen her and, nonetheless, rejected her apology. There was simply no other way to put it. He had tried to build up her hope that things would once again return to the way they used to be and Danny would forgive her, and just like that, she was cast aside…

How could Danny do that? Tucker knew the guy was stubborn and pig-headed, but to Sam? Just what happened the night before? He hated being left out of the loop! Especially now that he realized maybe the damage was far greater than he thought previously. Whatever did happened, it had broken the ghost kid's spirit; big time. And not even Sam could repair it.

"Sam," he had tried to call, but the girl only glanced at him and kept going, tears streaming down her face. Maddie and Jack tried to call out to her too, but they were only answered by the front door opening and closing.

_Wait…_ Tucker thought, something dawning on him. _The only place she can go to after this is…_ His eyes widened as he thought this, a sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through his body, almost, if not more so, as much as when Jazz told them about Danny's condition, allowing him the energy he needed to get up from the couch and shuffle quickly to the door after her.

"Wait, Tucker, you're still hurt," Maddie murmured softly, watching the boy go, but knew she was helpless in the situation. Danny and Jazz may think that she was clueless, but she wasn't that much. Would any mother really not notice that there was something strange happening to her child? No, like any mother, different as their family may be from other "normal" families, she was a concerned parent before a ghost hunter, and she had definitely noticed the drama going on here. Something happened between Danny and Sam and now Tucker, the glue in the situation, had to take his role seriously. She knew her son; he wasn't perfect, but he'd never hurt his best friend, not purposely. There was a key element missing here, she just wasn't sure what it was or what was getting in the way of it, but she trusted the trio to figure it out. If they truly needed help, they knew where she was. Until then, though, there was another mystery still left to solve.

For one thing, why did said son, said darling boy, seem to contain such a high level of ectoplasm in his blood, so infused into his molecules, it was almost as if it was a part of him.

_My baby, _she thought quietly to herself, meeting the eyes of her husband, _what have we done to you?_

As soon as Tucker got outside, the first thing he did was try to call out to the girl almost all the way down the block already. He tried to make it down the steps of the porch as quickly as he could, but tripped and fell half-way. He had been keeping his eyes on the girl, focusing only on trying to shout as loud as he could - a failed effort - and had not been watching his step. His body fell with a relatively soft thud. Thankfully he had been at the bottom step so it didn't hurt as much as it would have otherwise. However, he could have done without the sharp pain shooting through his arm now from how awkwardly his elbow connected with the concrete.

But he tried desperately to keep going. "Sam!" he tried to shout out again, but it only came out as a croak. He pushed himself up onto his knees, using the rail on the side of the porch steps as a support, and was about to stand up, when the girl he'd been chasing after stopped walking.

She was all the way at the end of the unusually long block, right at the corner, there was no way she could have heard him. So then, why…?

His heart stopped.

The sobbing girl took a step backwards. She was looking down the other end of the block at something - or some_one_ - that Tucker couldn't see. For a moment, even he was held I suspense. He had one knee on the ground still, one pulled up, and both hands were on the rail, his body in the middle of pulling him to his feet. Then, he saw him.

From behind the bushes of the house on the corner of the street came out a teenage boy, about their age. He had short brown hair, untreated an d laying in a neat disarray on his head, wore a t-shirt and jeans, nothing really out of the ordinary about him. But then why was Sam backing up away from him, as if she was frightened?

Tucker didn't need even two guesses. It completely dawned on him that that otherwise harmless looking boy must be Juan. The adrenaline pumped through his blood again and he started to heave himself up, managing to get on his feet and hugging his now injured arm close to his side. "Sam, don't," he murmured, then stopped again.

His Goth friend had been standing in front of the new boy, gaze slightly downcast, hugging her arms, shoulders trembling as she continued to sob. Then Juan did something inexplicable. With a swift movement of his arm, a motion so elegant Tucker could only stare in awe, he wrapped said arm around Sam's waist and pulled her body close to his. Her face was buried in his chest, her shoulders stilled trembled, he brought his face close to the side of her own and whispered something Tucker was too far away to hear, all he could was his lips moving. Then, he parted from Sam just a bit, gazed at her for a little while, a hand on her cheek as he wiped away her tears, and-

Tucker's eyes widened. Sam stood still for a second, her face turned away, then her balance caught up with her, and she stumbled a step before dropping to her knees on the ground, a hand on the cheek Juan had just be touching. The clap from the force of his palm connecting with Sam's face was loud enough for Tucker to hear it, it echoed in the driveways and spaces between buildings. He was surprised Sam hadn't tumbled as soon as he'd connected, frail as she was in these circumstances.

Tucker took a step forward, trying with all his might to get to Sam. Maybe he wasn't able to do anything when Dash hurt her, but maybe this time, he could at least show this guy that she wasn't alone. This was against Sam's plan; the whole reason she even told him about it was because she was sure that Juan would never find out. Now how would she be able to hide it? If Juan turned around and saw him, what would Sam do?

Gradually, Tucker slowed down his pace. If Juan saw him, it would only make things worse for Sam. It would only make her worry. Instead of continuing to stand there, he shuffled behind some bushes on the edge of Danny's neighbor's lawn and watched. He cursed beneath his breath at what he had just been reduced to. _Danny!_

He wished he could do something more, but he only watched now as Juan snarled something towards Sam, his face contorted with fury. Then, he reached a hand out for her to grab. Sam turned to look at him, as if unsure of what this meant. She took his hand, and he pulled her up. He said something to her, but she made no reaction. Tucker frowned. Juan seemed almost calm now, reserved, as if nothing had just happened, as if their relationship was not a strange or dangerous one.

The two teens turned to go now, their backs to Tucker. Juan put a protective arm around Sam's shoulders, and looked at her, turning his head just enough so that Tucker could make out his face. He looked analytical, his eyes downcast. Just as they started to walk, he half buried his nose into Sam's hair and smiled. What happened next sent chills down Tucker's spine. Juan's downcast eyes suddenly met his own and that little smile now took up an entirely new meaning.

_He knew I was here the entire time…_

* * *

Bonus:

Why? Why did she have to come here? Why _now_?

Danny waited until his sister was done picking up the tiny items Sam had dropped onto the floor. He hadn't expected her to come here, not after what she'd done to him, but that's not saying he was about to change his mind.

He didn't regret his decision…He _couldn't_. Just like what she had done to him, what he had just done to her was irreversible. Nothing could ever make this better…

And her pain.

He had heard his parents mumbling about it before. When they found out about how sick he was and how it was because of his being "exposed to so many ghosts from their research," he started to cry. At first, they didn't understand why. Maddie only cried with him. Then it was Jack, surprisingly enough, that figured it out. It was a side project of his. More than wanting to hunt ghosts, you see, he was in absolute awe of them. The way they seemed to know where each other was at all times, the way that, if by chance, they had to work together, they could come together beautifully, the way that seemed to _know _what each other was thinking… Yes, the increase of ectoplasm in Danny's blood had given him this temporary power: ecto-empathy. And now, feeling the despair of his parents, he could do nothing but break down and cry with them. Never in their wildest dreams could they have imagined that this would happen to him because of their carelessness…

And now Danny felt what Sam did. And that's how he knew he had hurt her because what he felt now from her was exactly what he had felt the night before on her doorstep.

He heard Jazz reach the stairs and he curled up. He could feel her gaze, feel her confusion, it made him uneasy. This illness only made him feel extremely cold, so that part he didn't mind. With all the heat in the lab, he almost felt comfortable, but these emotions…he wished they would go away.

As soon as he heard the lab door open and jazz exit, he allowed a soft whimper escape his throat.

_Sam…_

* * *

E/N: Sam...was rejected...

I'm not quite sure what to say other than this story is almost complete. Not sure if I've said this before, but the end will be shocking ;P

Love you guys!


	21. Last

A/N: Hello again! This chapter took a while too, but unfortunately, it's not as long as the last one :(

However, I am now pretty certain of what the ending will consist off :D Maybe 2 or 3 more chapters before the grand finale!

* * *

**High Tension: Who Am I Really?**

**Chapter 21**

**Last**

* * *

Tucker sat there, stunned, until Sam and Juan had walked too far for him to see. His heart felt like it had stopped and everything around him vanished, his head felt stuffy. All he could think about was that graceful move, that slap to the face, that little smirk, and all he felt was dread in his heart. At one point he almost stood to his feet and ran after them, then he came back to his senses. Then, it hit him: time was running out. Juan knew that he knew about the whole ordeal. Maybe no words had crossed either of their lips, maybe Sam would deny that she had told Tucker anything, but Juan _knew_ and there was no way to take that back.

So not only was time running out for Juan – after all, his plan completely depended on circumstance, and right about now the tables were turning, at least in Juan's mind – but it was also running out for Sam. Whatever plan she had up her sleeve, she had better put it into action. Soon.

But for now…

Tucker frowned. "I'm sorry, Sam, but if you don't have a plan B, I'll make one for you," he murmured to himself, and stood, shuffling his way back to the porch he had fallen down from. He climbed the steps, opened the door, and walked inside.

_Danny, you're going to listen, whether you like it or not._

* * *

Juan marched Sam straight back to the Manson Mansion. He knew she would not be able to resist the urge to go visit that boy, Danny. It didn't take much to find out that the guy had fallen ill, very ill. A simple visit to the school provided him with that information. It had just so happened that he had overheard Jazz and that Tucker guy talking about it that morning. They didn't even notice he was there; let alone realized what he planned to do. Oh, and Tucker? Him finding out about all this was just a bonus, though he didn't doubt that Sam already spilled everything to him.

He frowned, looking at her. She had been walking by his side the entire time, no signs of struggle, no more tears. It was almost depressing. On one hand, he was satisfied. That boy, he guessed, must have completely given up on her. She must have tried to apologize, and he had rejected her. After everything she did the night before, how could he not? Still, she must have been clinging on to him somehow; but now, now he was absolutely positive that that one last string of hope was completely gone. Yes, this was according to his plan. He had proven that old woman wrong; Sam belonged to him. But then why was it less satisfying than he felt it should be? Everything was perfect, and yet something felt extremely wrong. Maybe because a little bit of struggle would be nice? It would make him feel dominant, powerful; he didn't deny it. But it also made her lose that bit of charm she had had before. She was a fighter but now that luster was gone. Now she was just an ordinary girl who had just been through far too much in such a short span of time. He almost felt sorry for her.

_Let me go…let me help her…_

Shut up. This was all for _her_. After this, _she_ and he could finally be together. After disposing of this wretch and her putrid family, he and _she_ could be free to love each other for however long he wanted. They could finally live in peace…

It must be done.

"Sam," Juan said. They stopped in front of the mansion. They had climbed the step and Sam had taken out her keys, prepared to unlock the door to let them in. He had stopped her right before she could make a move to put the key in the lock. She looked at him, blankness in her stare, her eyes glazed over. A pinkish mark remained on one of her cheeks, reminiscent of the blow he had given her. He touched that cheek again; it felt hot beneath his otherwise cold skin. Then he leaned in, almost without thinking, and pressed his lips against hers. She didn't move, didn't even make a sound. If he didn't know better, he might have thought that she didn't mind him kissing her, but he knew the reality. This was the final piece of evidence: it was time to draw the curtains to a close. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed, a tiny smile on his face. He pushed away all the doubts he had just a moment ago. Yes, it was all going perfectly. "It's almost over…" he said beneath his breath, barely loud enough for Sam to hear.

She still made no movement. She stared blankly, lips slightly parted, like a drone awaiting the next command. Inside her head, she tried to fight against this depression, but her body wouldn't listen, her broken heart wouldn't beat. A part of her was already preparing for her death, was almost content with it. _Anything would be better than this…I'm sorry mom, dad, Tucker…Danny…_

Then, a single tear fell from her eye and onto the ground. Juan blinked. He had opened his eyes just in time to see that the source of the tiny, dark spot on the ground had been her. But it couldn't be. By this point in time she should be completely unfeeling, completely hopeless. To cry is to feel _something_. He clenched his teeth, but still managed a small smile as he parted from her. She didn't look up, her eyes planted firmly on his chest, though he doubted she was actually looking at anything. He cleared his throat quietly, then motioned towards the door, signaling her to open it. No, he had worked way too hard for her to still feel something.

Sam opened the door and stood to one side. Juan smiled at her and motioned for her to walk in before him. She did, him closely behind. Before he closed the door, he looked off to the curb where the limo was parked. It was usually inside the driveway around back, but because of his parents' car, the Mansons had been kind enough to give up their private parking space. _Tonight is your last night._

He closed the door.

* * *

Tucker shuffled into the building. Maddie and Jack had returned to the kitchen and were working on their experiments. Maddie looked through a microscope and sketched out what looked like little globs with squigglies in them. He was sure she was looking at a blood sample. She had various other little sketches on the table top, separated into two stacks. One had a little post-it labeled "ghost," the other had one labeled "Danny." The similarities between the two almost made Tucker gasp. What would happen if they found out Danny's secret because of all this? He frowned, trying to keep himself hidden until he could figure out what exactly he was going to tell Danny. If they fund out Tucker was back, they weren't going to let him near Danny until they had dressed his wounds, and he didn't have time for that. He looked solemnly at his arm. It wasn't an odd shape so he knew it couldn't be too bad, but it also hurt to move and the area around his wrist was a dark purple and swollen, the bone seeming to jut out of its socket. At most, it was simply dislocated, he consoled himself. Right now, Sam was his priority.

In the meantime, Jack was messing with a few vials of clear liquid. He took a tiny sample of a red-brown substance and dropped in into the liquid. Immediately, gas started to escape into the air, causing him to cough and wheeze. "Jack!" Maddie exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She pulled her husband backwards and tossed a nearby dishtowel on top of the beaker in a frail attempt to keep the gas from leaking into the air. Almost immediately, the gas seemed to return to its liquid state and just as quickly froze the vial. The ice crystals glistened beneath the light above the kitchen table. Tucker gulped. He had a guess that that particular blood samples had been taken recently since Danny's ice powers were the ones currently acting up. It was a good thing, though. If they had taken a sample from this morning, who knows what could have happened. The last thing he needed was an explosion.

Maddie walked slowly towards the frozen chunk of ice on the table. The glass had exploded from the expansion of the original liquid. It was a good thing she had tossed the dishtowel onto it, otherwise the shards would have flown across the room. But, how could this happen? It almost had the quality of liquid nitrogen, freezing things on contact and releasing so much pressure upon returning to its gaseous state, it could potentially cause explosions if in closed containers. If Jack had breathed in the gas any longer, she didn't have a doubt that she could have lost him too. Right about now, he was gulping hot water from the faucet in a frail attempt to thaw his tonsils. Maddie turned back to the table; her lower lip quivered. Why...?

Then, before a single tear drop could fall, Jazz burst through the door from the lab. "Mom! Dad! There's something wrong with Danny!" Immediately, the three, Maddie, Jack, and Tucker, locked eyes with the girl and in a second rushed down to the basement. The wave of heat blasted them full force, but none of them cared. Tucker was the last to come down the stairs, Jazz helping him down. "Danny!" Maddie exclaimed, a horrified undertone in her voice. As soon as Tucker reached the bottom step, he saw why. He hadn't heard it before (maybe because his ears had already been ringing since he hurt his arm), but Danny was wailing at the top of his lungs and swinging his arms about, as if gasping for air. There were times when he tried his best to stop and he would clench his teeth and breathe loudly, but to no avail. Whatever pain he was in, it must have been more than simply dislocating a bone. Maddie neared him and tried to pin him down and make him open his eyes, to talk to him, to make him feel better, she just wanted her baby to feel better... But somewhere between trying to talk to him and trying to hold him down, Danny swung out a wild fist and struck her in the face. He was completely unconscious of the fact he had just hit his mother.

Jack managed to catch Maddie before she tumbled down, caught completely by surprise by Danny's strength. "Mom, are you okay?" Jazz asked, leaving Tucker to run to her mother's side. The red-haired black belt buried her face in Jack's chest and sobbed. Her baby boy, her baby…

From what she had been able to figure out, Danny's human blood was recognizing the virus as something foreign and was trying to exterminate it, but the ectoplasm was working as a buffer. Instead of getting out of the way and allowing the human blood to try its best to battle it out with the disease, the ectoplasm was _reacting_ with it before the blood had a chance to even get near it. When Maddie separated the ectoplasm from the human blood in one of the samples (and she did it miraculously, using one of the newer concoctions she and Jack had created just the other week) and had taken an isolated virus from a different sample, it had only taken a few minutes for the virus to neutralize. However, when she placed the ectoplasm with the virus in another dish, it almost seemed as if the ectoplasm was _fueling_ the virus. It did indeed stop reproducing, but it was not "dead." The virus would expand and then release energy in different forms: sometimes it would be a tiny sound, other times it was heat, and still other times there would be the faintest of glows. What happened with Jack, though, was still a mystery to her. Could the reaction also result in the _loss_ of energy? No, that was impossible. Or was it that in some circumstances the ectoplasm and virus could steal energy from the human blood?

Either way, if the high quantities of ectoplasm in Danny's human blood were continuously merging with the virus…what would happen to Danny? The pain he felt now was no doubt the result of the multiple reactions in his body…

Wait.

* * *

Tucker watched everything in slow motion. The fist to Maddie's face, Jack coming to her rescue, Jazz also running to her aid. He looked at his best friend still writhing on the cot. His screams of pain filled his ears. How could he possibly reason with him now? How could he get him to help Sam _now_? He cursed beneath his breath and clenched his teeth. He had tried to help both of them and now he could do nothing, nothing at all, not for either of them.

"Tucker, turn up the heat!" Tucker blinked. He turned towards the source of the voice that had broken through his thoughts. Maddie was on her feet. In the small moment where he had begun to doubt himself, she had managed to helped Jack tie Danny's body down with some leathers belts/straps so that he wouldn't move as much. Jazz was trying to calm him down. He had stopped screaming, but was still in great pain. Jazz was crying, running her hand through his hand in a frail attempt to comfort him, maybe even herself as well.

"Tucker, the heat!" Jack bellowed, his voice hoarse was inhaling the icy vapor from just a few moments before. Tucker blinked and turned to his right where the thermostat was. It was already a little more than 100 degrees in there. How high…? He shook his head. He pressed his fingers onto the up arrow and watched as the temperature slowly rose to almost 130 degrees. He could feel his own body start to react to the heat as a cold wash of sweat suddenly swept over his body. If they stayed down here for too long, they would surely dehydrate. Maddie whispered something to Jack and Jack's eyes widened in disbelief. Then he nodded at her and she rushed towards Tucker, hugged him, and then rushed up the stairs and into the kitchen. What he couldn't wipe from his mind was the fact that she was smiling. Could she have figured it all out…?

Jack stayed with Jazz and he was smiling too. Yes. She must have! He shuffled up the stairs after her. Danny would be saved!

* * *

Tucker opened the door of the lab and walked in. His body hardly hurt anymore, only his elbow and wrist ached, but he could deal with that. Maddie was standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open. She pulled out a couple of dark red test-tubes with tiny labels on them. He immediately knew that they must be samples of Danny's blood. He blinked. Was she still going to go through an experiment?

After placing the test tubes on the table, she grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the faucet. She set that on the table too. Quickly she took a tiny sample of the blood and looked at it through the microscope. Then she did something a little strange. After waiting for a few moments, she took one of the test tubes, the one she took the sample from, and _poured it into the glass of water._

With another swift movement, she ducked beneath the table and upon seeing Tucker, shouted, "Get down!" Without even thinking about it, Tucker dropped to the ground. A few seconds later, the sound of glass shattering and falling to the floor as well as water_ audibly_ freezing reached his ears. Maddie squealed. Tucker opened his eyes slowly. On instinct he had covered his face with his beret and only now moved it away slowly. He blinked. He had ducked next to the counter and embedded into the wood was a shard of glass. He gulped. "Uhm, Mrs. Fenton…?" he murmured, fearful. Was it really safe to do that?

"Tucker, come here!" Maddie exclaimed, her whole appearance instantly changed by whatever this wonderful discovery was. He nodded, standing slowly. He walked towards her. The table was covered in what looked like muddy ice. Just the thought that it wasn't mud but his best friend's blood made his stomach churn. "Yes?" he murmured, looking at Maddie. She beamed.

"Earlier I noticed that Danny's human blood was able to fight off the disease by itself, but it took several minutes for a single virus molecule could be taken care of, and it would take several cells to complete the job. However, the isolated ectoplasmic molecules in his blood would simply fuse with the virus on a one to one ratio, swell, and release heat, all within a few seconds. His blood contains an equal part ectoplasm and an equal part human blood cells, so imagine if a single ectoplasmic molecule could defeat it's counterpart in mere seconds? It would be so much more efficient! However, in the experiment it only seemed to stop the virus from multiplying, so it would still exist in his system. But see, we lowered the temperature in the kitchen for our experiments, when we actually needed the complete opposite! As soon as the ectoplasm fuses with the virus, something wonderful happens! The warmth from the surrounding blood allows it to reach its action potential which results in this!" Maddie motioned towards the frozen table top. Tucker was confused. Ice? Why would Danny want ice in his blood? And even more so, isn't frozen blood _bad_?

Maddie saw his confused expression and smiled. "But keep this in perspective. This is all happening at a molecular level. The ice in Danny's blood would only consist of a single molecule of frozen substance, in this case _regular _blood, so tiny it would hardly pose much of a risk besides a mild case of hypothermia which we could easily solve! And the best thing is…not only does the virus get destroyed, _so does the ectoplasm contaminating his blood!_"

* * *

E/N: Okay, so time is running out; it's critical that Sam get herself together, or at least that Danny come and save her! But without any ectoplasm in his blood…Will Danny still be able to use his ghost powers to save her?


End file.
